Triple Threat
by Sir Perfluous
Summary: The Lighthouse War continues to rage as Osean forces prepare to launch a daring counterattack. With the LRSSG spearheading the operation, Trigger and his loyal friends are tasked to lead the charge and fight their way into the very heart of Erusea's capital. [Part 2 of the Lighthouse War Trilogy]
1. New Beginnings

**Disclaimer: I do not own Ace Combat. Fanfic Authors even challenge the true sky.**

**All right Squadron, listen up! I'm back from solitary and I'm ready to answer your call with a sequel to _Persona Non Grata_. So suit up, grab yourself a big ol' sandwich, and form up on my six. It's time to fly!**

* * *

**_Bulgurdarest Air Base_**  
**_August 9, 2019_**

The clatter of silverware and the smell of warm food greeted me as I entered the messhall of the airbase to look for my friends. The days following the death of Colonel McKinsey and the last flight of Spare Squadron had been nothing short of miraculous. As a result of rooting out a traitorous officer, the survivors of our penal squadron had been given official pardons and reinstated back in the ranks of the Osean Air Force. In a way, we had gone from convicts to heroes seemingly overnight. The whole thing had been like a surreal out of body experience but perhaps there had been a little luck involved too. My friends and I had been granted new leases on life and we didn't intend to waste that blessing either.

The Lighthouse War as it had come to be called was still raging on the other side of the continent but the small quiet refuge of this airbase in Bulgurdarest had been a godsend for those of us who were in need of it. Although Bulgurdarest was still struggling to remain a neutral power, it was still honoring its close ties to the Osean Federation and allowing some of us a temporary safe haven so that we could regroup before moving on again.

As I passed a few airmen carrying trays of food, I finally found my friends who had come along with me from the Zapland air base. They were sitting at a corner table eating some lunch and joking with each other. They all looked up when they saw me and my roommate Tabloid moved over to give me some space to sit. The lanky man with sandy brown hair gave a cheerful grin and raised a mug of coffee, "Hey Trigger. It's about time you showed up. We were just talking about how much better the chow is here than it was back at the penitentiary in Zapland."

"Geez, everything is better here than it was at the 444th," my other wingman Count said leaning back in his seat. The handsome fair featured man with a mop of blonde hair gave a sigh, "I'm just glad to be out of those jail cells and be treated like a human being again."

The lone female of our group, a tanned young woman with a very short haircut gave me a curious look, "Where were you off to this morning Trigger?"

I reached into my flightsuit and produced a card for everyone to see, "I was getting my new ID badge just now. And guys? Don't be too jealous that I took such a great photo. I am devastatingly handsome after all."

Avril laughed at the humor and passed the card along, "So your real name is Thomas Richter, huh? Kinda sounds like Trigger, doesn't it?"

"Moreso than the rest of us. Isn't that right, Eugene Morris?" Tabloid teased Count from across the table.

"Aw shut up Tabloid. Don't make me reach across the table here," Count grumbled.

"Eugene? Your real name is Eugene?" I asked stifling a laugh of my own.

Count threw up his hands in exasperation and shook his head while the rest of us shared a laugh until Tabloid spoke again and produced his own ID.

"I will say this. It is nice to have our real names back… to have someone call me Steven Pope again."

"Well don't get too used to it, son. We've still got a war going on here," came a familiar deep voice. We all turned in surprise to see the veteran airman Major Wiseman, who also served as the flight leader of Cyclops Squadron. With him was another Air Force Major. He looked to be a middle aged man with a heavyset built and a trim dark brown mustache. Wiseman gestured to his stocky companion and said, "Everyone, I'd like you to meet your new AWACs controller. He goes by the name Long Caster. Major, these are some of our new pilots."

We all murmured our greetings to him and Long Caster gave a calm friendly smile along with a nod, "Nice to meet you all. Would you care to join us for a meal?"

"Actually, we were just finishing up here sir," Tabloid said, "We heard we were going to be a shipping out on some transports later and then head for a new base near North Point. We were going to make sure the last of our paperwork and cargo was in order."

Major Wiseman nodded, "All right. As for you Trigger and Count. I'd like you to report to our temporary HQ in about an hour or so. I want you both to sit in on an important meeting."

"Yes sir. I'll do that as soon as I grab some food to go," I said giving a hasty salute as I left the table with my friends. As we walked off, Long Caster called after me.

"Captain, I recommend their salami and pepperoni sandwich here! Trust me, your stomach will thank you for it!"

Judging by the couple extra inches on Long Caster's waistline I guess I had no reason to doubt him. I gave him a friendly wave before walking with Count toward the chow line, "Well... he seems friendly. Definitely a step up from Bandog."

"Psh. Bandog? Anything is a step up from that salty bastard," Count chuckled idly, "What I'm really curious about is this meeting that Wiseman wants you and I to attend. What do you think that's all about?"

I shrugged as I took a tray and the nearest salami sandwich, "No idea. But I guess we'll find out soon enough."

* * *

**_Erusean Air and Space Administration_**  
**_Experimental Testing Facility / 68th Exp. Squadron Base_**

Meanwhile on the other side of the continent, Princess Rosa Cossette D'Elise made her way down a hallway of the EASA testing facility that she was visiting and rounded a corner. The young Erusean royal couldn't help but feel a little out of place in this remote government facility that doubled as an airbase for one of the kingdom's experimental squadrons. A girl done up in makeup with an expensive white dress and blazer combo was a far cry from the grimy mechanics, the sweaty pilots, and the haggard looking scientists that populated the place. Rosa opened a nearby door and entered one of the building's empty hangers. There she could see the main doors were already open letting in the morning light and she made her way across the enclosure to where she found the person that she was looking for, one of her classmates that she was visiting here. "Ionela! There you are!"

The young brunette woman in a dark blue dress turned around in surprise and greeted the blonde haired princess with a faint smile, "Rosa... hello. I didn't hear you coming. You're up early."

"I could say the same to you," Rosa said as she joined her classmate by the hanger doors. She noticed Ionela seemed preoccupied and kept her eyes toward the skies as if keeping a quiet vigil, "He's flying again... isn't he?"

Ionela sighed and gave a nod. Her grandfather Mihaly A. Shilage was an older nobleman of Erusea and had distinguished himself as an ace pilot in their air force. Despite his advanced age, Mihaly had shown remarkable resilance and retention of his unparalleled piloting skills. It had caught the attention of the Erusean government and he continued to work with EASA and their scientists to gather data. It was suspected that data was being used in their drone programs but Mihaly did not seem to care much about the agendas of EASA. He was a stubborn old man who was wedded to the skies and just refused to leave. It was this persistent refusal to retire and leave the skies that had caused his granddaughters Ionela and Alma so much concern and was part of the reason they were there at the facility. They had come to care for him and see to his health when he had episodes after stressing his body in his test flights.

"Grandfather seems all the more determined these days to practice and sharpen his skills," Ionela said absently looking toward the bright clear blue skies that hung over the salt flats.

"Because of the war currently going?" Rosa asked.

Ionela shrugged, "Yes, but there's more to it. He told me that he wanted to be ready when he meets the pilot with the three scratches."

Rosa looked curiously to her friend as she explained, "Grandfather was flying a mission not too long ago, in the Yinshi Valley. The skies were dark and stormy and he came across a group of Osean fighter planes. He said that among those Oseans, there was a pilot who dared to challenge him in a duel. Grandfather said that pilot was exceptionally skilled and showed great courage. Based on the radio chatter, he said this pilot sounded like a young man and on the tail of this fighter, it had three distinct lines painted."

Rosa was intrigued. She knew that Mihaly was an unmatched pilot who had never lost a fight and she wanted to hear more of this Osean pilot, "What happened?"

"They fought each other to a draw," Ionela answered, "They parted ways and Grandfather said that fight made him feel more alive than he had in a long time. He said it made him feel young again and more determined than ever to defeat this man with three scratches."

Rosa nodded and looked up to the skies with her friend. Although Rosa was no expert when it came to fighter planes and aviation, she was familiar enough with some of the jargon and the sight of the Flankers which often escorted her family's transport planes. While she had no desire to become a pilot as well, she had always admired the skill of great pilots in their air shows and the graceful way that they made their aircraft seem to dance and soar in skies. In way, Rosa couldn't help but feel a little guilty that Mihaly was pushing himself so hard and that her friend Ionela continued to worry for her grandfather. This war against the Osean Federation was being pushed and supported by her own royal family so she shared some responsibility at having become the war effort's figurehead. She knew Ionela didn't blame her, but it still weighed on her mind. Maybe that was part of the reason Rosa was staying here too? A sense of guilt and loyalty to her friend who she was making suffer?

Rosa pushed aside the thought and put a comforting hand on her classmate's shoulder, "Come on. Let's get you something to eat. When your grandfather comes back, I'll help you see to him."

Before she departed, Princess Rosa looked to the skies one more time wondering how the war was progressing, where Mihaly might be today, and just who this mysterious young Osean pilot might be.

* * *

_**Bulgurdarest Air Base**_

Later that afternoon, Count and I headed over to the air base's central administrative building which served as the temporary HQ of our people there. We made our way into a large spacious briefing room that looked like a small auditorium where we were joined by a few dozen of our fellow Osean pilots. We didn't really recognize anyone else there so Count and I stuck together and sat off to the side waiting until Major Wiseman and Long Caster entered. By the looks of it, those two were going to be giving some sort of mission briefing as the lights dimmed and the main display screen pulled up a tactical map of the Usean continent along with the dispositions of Erusean and Osean forces.

Major Wiseman spoke first in his deep commanding baritone, "All right, settle down everyone. I've got some announcements to make. Two of the squadrons here will be flying as escorts for the transports making their way to our new base near North Point. You have your orders already so you can stick to them. As for the rest of you, I want to let you know that we're going to be getting some new blood. Captain Richter? Lieutenant Morris? Please rise."

Count and I looked to each other in surprise and rose hesitantly before all the eyes in the room turned to us. I normally didn't mind these kind of things or getting singled out, but right now I couldn't help but feel a little self conscious... maybe more than I wanted to be. Wiseman continued, "These pilots go by the call signs Trigger and Count. Boys, we've received official confirmation about what we're going to do with you. I made it abundantly clear to the brass that I'd like for the both of you to officially join our unit. This is an unprecedented move and they assented so it seems like you've got people looking out for you. Based on the reports I've been given, I believe you'll be an asset to us. Now to the heart of the briefing. Long Caster?

Our new AWACs officer stepped forward and took control of the presentation, "For a long time, our counteroffensive has been slowed by the Erusean drones' auto-intercept system. Any aircraft entering Erusean airspace without the proper IFF is marked as hostile and drones are scrambled. However, we have discovered that the intercept system has a blind spot. We acquired this valuable information from other squadrons who went on dangerous missions to scout the borders and they suffered great losses. If we don't act now before the enemy can fill that blind spot, our pilots' sacrifices will have been in vain."

At that, both Count and I tensed and recalled the similar ambush we had experienced in the Wiapolo Mountains against those dreaded drones. In our few short encounters with them, the drones had been directly and indirectly related to the deaths of several members of our old penal unit Spare Squadron.

Long Caster continued, "That said, we've been ordered to carry out a campaign of long-range strikes. We will operate separately from the main Osean forces as the LRSSG, or the Long Range Strategic Strike Group. Cyclops and Strider Squadrons will be tasked to sortie deep into Erusean territory and carry out specialized long range attack strategies. We will carve our way through the territories of northern Usea to the Erusean capital of Farbanti attacking major targets along the way."

I stared at the screen in amazement as I followed the projected course outlined. It was a very bold and audacious plan. In a sense, they intended for this LRSSG to act as a Special Forces style unit of air warfare. Despite the risks, it was possible that this plan might work too. I couldn't help but wonder what sorts of odds and wagers the late High Roller would be placing on all this right now.

"The first operation will involve striking the enemy's main naval force, the Njord fleet which is gathered in northern Usea. We've known for some time there is a large supply base utilized by the enemy fleet in the waters around Snider's Top. At present, that is where they are concentrated. We believe they intend to use it as a staging ground to attack eastern Usea where Osean forces are currently stationed. If we can surprise the enemy with a long range attack, we could potentially do devastating damage to them. Remember, while aircraft and ammo can be replaced, the lives of our pilots cannot. We don't want any casualties out there. We have a lot to do so make sure your aircraft are prepped and ready to go. Good luck pilots."

Count and I rose from our chairs feeling a rush of exhilaration and excitement. Did this mean what we thought it did? We were really going to be going back to flying combat operations, and with an elite task force of pilots as well. Even more, Osea was once again taking the initiative and asserting itself in the war. After all the recent sorties Count and I had flown, it was good to finally be back on the offensive again. Before we could go, we were stopped by Wiseman who gave us careful scrutiny as he approached, "Hold on a minute you two. I have a few more things to add. I'm going to be in need of a new flight leader for Strider Squadron. Trigger, I'd like you to head that up on the coming operation."

I blinked in shock, "I'm sorry... me? You want me to lead Strider?"

"Kid, I've seen you fly out there and I remember how you took on Mr. X too. If what I heard about your skill and leadership with Spare Squadron is true, then I have no doubt the Striders will be in good hands."

"I... thank you Major," I said dutifully.

"What about me?" Count asked in mild disappointment.

Wiseman turned to him, " Count, you will be be assigned to Cyclops Squadron under me as Cyclops 2. Hope that's okay with you."

"I guess the number 2 spot's not a bad place to start off in an official squadron," Count sighed before looking to me and giving me a light elbow in the side, "I guess I'll let this one slide Trigger."

"Gee, how magnanimous of you," I retorted with a mild eye roll at my friend's trademark vanity. I patted Count's shoulder and moved for the door, "Come on. Let's get to work and prep our aircraft. If we're going to be flying with this new unit, we'll have to dress to impress."


	2. Siren's Song

_**Bulgurdarest Air Base**_  
_**August 10, 2019**_

Early the next morning, Count and I made our way to the hangers of the air base in preparation for our next sortie. I had to admit, it was good to be wearing a regulation flight suit again with the blue and white Osean stars along with our new unit patches too. On the shoulder of mine was the purple colored patch of Strider Squadron with a charging knight upon a horseback. Admittedly, purple wasn't really my color, but that was okay. I was still digging the emblem itself. Even Count seemed to like his new Cyclops patch as well. Even though we would be in different flights, The Cyclops and Striders would always be working in tandem with each other.

We came upon our new fighters that had been assigned to us and we were pleased to see that we'd be flying the unit's standard aircraft, F-15C's. Count grinned and opened his arms up toward his fighter, "All right! New Eagles? And they're fully loaded! We're finally moving up in the world!"

That was when we were joined by Avril and Tabloid who came over dressed in their mechanic's coveralls. By the looks of it, they had both been doing maintenance and service work on our planes.

"Look at that! We've been graced by the Scrap Queen's presence," I smiled greeting my friend with a little bow.

Avril gave me a shove and gestured with her wrench while giving a cocky grin toward my plane, "Well Trigger, what do you think? Tabloid and I did a little extra prep for you and Count so that you can really kick some ass out there today."

I already knew Avril had a natural gift for fixing up aircraft. She could make them fly better and faster than before and I didn't doubt that her tweaks to the Eagles would come in handy here too. I could already see she had loaded our fighters down with extra missiles and ammo but the thing that caught my attention were the three white marks painted on the tail fins of fighter. Instead of the straight "sin-lines" I had been given at Zapland, the lines were stylized into the look of three talons tearing through the steel.

Tabloid grinned and set down the tool box that he carried for Avril while propping himself up with a crutch in the other arm, "You like it? I got the idea for it and Avril helped me touch up the paint."

I wore a wide grin on my face and probably looked like a little kid on Christmas day, "Are you kidding? I think this is totally badass! I love it!"

"All right, enough gloating Tabloid. We've still got work to do before we head out on our own transport," Avril said giving a whistle and waving him over toward another plane.

"Yes Your Highness," Tabloid sighed dramatically as he picked up the toolbox and steadied himself again on his crutch. He had suffered an injury to his leg after getting shot down in our last sortie but despite the fact he had a bum leg for a while, the important thing was that he was still alive and well. Tabloid turned back to Count and I with an apologetic look. "Hey guys, sorry I'll have to sit some of these missions out. With this bum leg, it looks like I'll be grounded for a while yet."

"Don't sweat it string bean," Count said reassuringly, "We'll sink an extra boat out there for you or something."

Tabloid nodded and looked to me, "We'll be waiting for you guys in North Point when you return. Good luck out there."

"What he said," Avril added quietly. Due to her tomboy nature, it was clear Avril didn't like getting too emotional either so she tried to shrug off her feelings of concern for us with her tough girl act, "Trigger? Count? You guys stay safe out there, okay? Don't mess up those planes too much and don't be your usual dumbass selves."

"Wouldn't dream of it Your Majesty," I joked reassuringly before our friends headed off to service another plane. Before Count and I turned back to our aircraft, we were stopped by another pair of young Osean pilots from Strider and Cyclops Squadrons. They were Lieutenants and looked to be around same age as Count and I, in their early twenties. One was a cute oriental looking woman with long dark hair while the other was a dark skinned man with a very short haircut. The woman approached me first and gave me a smart salute while wearing a big grin on her face, "Captain Richter? Oh my gosh! It's an honor to meet you again, sir! I'm Lin Zhang, Cyclops 4, but everyone here calls me Huxian."

She extended a hand and I shook it in slight bemusement, "Thanks. Umm... have we met before?"

She gave a nod, "Right! Sorry. I was one of the pilots flying with Major Wiseman on the way back through Yinshi Valley. You were the guy who saved us all from those drones and Mr. X. I'm so glad I finally get a chance to thank you in person!"

The dark skinned man chuckled, "I guess you could say Huxian here is a member of your fan club too. Both she and I were amazed watching you duel that Erusean ace."

"You were there too?" I asked.

The man gave a nod, "Yes sir. The name's Skald. I'll be serving as your Number 2 in Strider Squadron today."

At this point, Count smoothed his hair back a little and put on a little swagger to try and charm Huxian, "You know... I was also with Trigger at that battle and I helped too."

Huxian eyed him calmly and gave a wry smile, "Hmm, that's funny. I seem to recall the only pilot who went to back Trigger up against Mr. X was that guy you called Tabloid."

"Oh... well you know, details, details," Count sighed as I laughed and Skald shook his head.

"Don't feel too bad man. You're not the first guy Huxian's shot down around here. Now come on, we should finish getting prepped for our flight."

I gave a friendly wave to our new comrades as they departed while Count watched Huxian walk off, "I tell you Trigger. There's no justice. I need to step up my game so I can get some cute fangirls too."

"Who knows... you might just get your second chance today," I laughed clapping Count on the back before mounting the ladder to my fighter, "Let's go Romeo."

* * *

_**Snider's Top, Northern Usea**_

After leaving Bulgurdarest, our fighter wing made its way north for several hours until we reached the edge of Usea's northern gulf. The coastline around Snider's Top was a cold glacial area with snowy mountains and tranquil deep blue waters around the icy inlets. Fortunately for us, the skies had cleared and we had a good view of the surrounding area we were going to attack. Inside the estuary, we could see a large naval supply platform while the rest of the Erusean fleet was moving north toward another sea based platform. As we started to get radar returns, we heard Long Caster radio us, "Sorry, but I'm going to eat while I work. My judgement gets a little fuzzy when I'm hungry."

"Is this guy for real?" Count quipped while I stifled a laugh of my own. "We're loaded for bear and this guy is talking about food?"

"Yep. Definitely better than Bandog," I nodded.

Skald radioed in to me, "You sure you're up to taking point here, Captain? I heard you were good with your old squadron. Just don't slow us down, okay?"

"You let me worry about that Strider 2. I want the rest of you focused on your jobs," I answered calmly.

Long Caster cut in and made us focus again, "We have a visual on the enemy fleet. Strider and Cyclops Squadrons, you are clear to engage."

"Wilco. / "Copy that." Wiseman and I responded as our fighters angled over to strike the enemy fleet in the open waters. The Striders and Cyclops fighters peeled off and began their diving attack runs on the targets. By now, the enemy had sighted us too and the AA guns of the ships began to light up the skies with a hail of intercepting fire. I took a sharp banking dive and began bearing down on a cruiser to get a missile lock, "Come on Count. Let's do these guys like Champ would."

"Righto. Hard and fast," Count answered joining in my attack.

We both let loose with a missile and some strafing fire before breaking off in opposite directions. The missiles struck the heart of the ship and caused it to cave in from the resulting fireball. I gave a cheer at the dying enemy ship before making a low approach over the waters on a nearby destroyer. Amid the chatter on our comm lines, I could see why Strider and Cyclops were elite squadrons. Our pilots here were efficient, disciplined, and they worked together. Our F-15 Eagles looked more like fearsome seabirds pouncing on helpless fish in the open waters. From the left and the right, Erusean frigates and destroyers were picked off one by one from criss-crossing missiles and strafing fire of our pilots while numerous plumes of smoke began to rise over the gulf from all the sinking vessels.

As I skimmed the waters, I lined up on my new target and fired a missile straight into the bridge of the ship causing the destroyer to explode. I pulled up and rolled right to get clear of some gunfire before ascending again.

"Nice shot Strider 1!" Huxian called, "Now you're just showing off."

Amid the chaos and the fires in the water, Count surveyed the makings of a rout for the Erusean Navy, "I think we sunk most of the enemy fleet. It's hard to tell from all the smoke."

"Cyclops 2, stay sharp," Wiseman answered as he attacked a frigate, "There's still plenty of targets. Work by the numbers Count."

Our fighter wing regrouped and prepared to make a coordinated attack on an Erusean aircraft carrier at the center of the naval formation. I called out to my squadron, "Striders, stay high and tight. Let's flank that beast with Cyclops. We'll hit the guns and missile launchers. Major? You want to take the hull?"

"Sounds like a plan," Wiseman grinned as he and his squadron went low to target the hull and lower decks of the ship.

I could hear Strider 4, a pilot named Lanza, say to to some other comrades, "Bold and aggressive. I like our new boss's style."

In short order, the aircraft carrier was pummeled by a merciless saturation attack of our missiles and strafing fire causing gouts of flame and thick smoke to pour from the wounds as the ship listed sideways. As we made our last pass, Skald radioed in, "Trigger, what are those marks on your tail? Three lines? Scratches?"

"Whatever you're thinking, they're not sin-lines," I answered tensely while keeping my focus on the battle raging around me.

"Sin-lines? What are those?" Huxian asked but Count chimed in quickly.

"Nothing. Forget it."

As the dying Erusean carrier erupted into flames and sunk, Long Caster spoke up, "Good work squadrons. Enemy fleet has been neutralized. You guys took down some serious firepower right there."

"Ah, piece of cake," Count called as he angled toward one of the enemy supply platforms in the distance, "Who wants to go for the big score?"

"Cyclops 2, stop fluttering about and stay glued to my ass," Wiseman chided him.

Count grumbled in annoyance toward his flight leader, "Don't treat me like a newborn chick. I've shot down my fair share of enemies."

"Chirp-chirp-chirp little chick," Wiseman retorted, "Just stick with your mother hen and I'll get you back to the roost safe and sound."

Even in the midst of a fierce battle like this, I suddenly found myself laughing at the exchange. While Wiseman's roasting of Count reminded me of Bandog, this was for very different reasons. Back in Spare Squadron, our commanders didn't care if we lived or died. Our lives and feelings meant very little to them. But I could already tell that the mentality of the LRSSG was vastly different. Wiseman and Long Caster were commanders who encouraged us and they seemed to act this way in order to ensure the safety of everyone, even if that meant giving us younger pilots a verbal smackdown when we needed it.

Wiseman turned the nose of his Eagle toward the sea based platform and called to me, "Strider Leader, you up to divide and conquer?"

"Roger Cyclops 1. We'll take the base in the estuary. Maybe see who can destroy their target first?"

"You're on Strider 1," Wiseman answered as the Eagles of Cyclops Squadron peeled off to attack the marine base out in the water.

Strider Squadron followed me and went the other direction roaring over the ice filled waters and the ruins of the Erusean fleet to strike our own objective. As we made our approach inland, we could see the platform with docked Erusean ships and gun emplacements ready. Skald grimaced in apprehension, "You want to try and take that monster head-on, boss? That's a lot of AA guns."

I kept my eyes peeled and surveyed the landscape, "Not this time. I think we can take em by surprise. Follow me."

I angled low over the valley and the ice formations until I saw what I was looking for. One of the small tributary rivers that led out into the gulf served as a pipeline for ships and it was partially enclosed by rocks and glacial ice. Lanza voiced some incredulity, "Hold on Strider 1, you want us to fly through that tunnel?"

"Right into the backyard of the Eruseans? Hell yes," I grinned as I descended low and sped through the rift. Skald took a deep breath and followed suit, "Either our squad leader is a maniac or a genius. I can't tell right now. Maybe a little bit of both."

Strider Squadron roared through the wide glacial tunnel and swiftly rounded a few bends, even catching a few passing Erusean ships sailing along the way. A few of the Striders in the rear ranks downed a pair of patrol boats with some missiles before our squadron burst from the narrow exit of the tunnel at the other side of the estuary. Our unexpected route seemed to have caught the enemy completely by surprise as their air defenses were aimed out toward the sea instead. I fired a pair of missiles at some docked cargo barges and called out, "Let's light em up, Striders!"

Our squadron roared around the valley and wrecked havoc on the docked ships before turning our sights on the massive supply platform in the middle of the bay. Lanza took note of a few Erusean Flankers being scrambled to intercept us as he shouted, "How are we going to knock this thing out? We don't have anywhere near enough ordnance to destroy all these targets."

I quickly studied the battlefield and noted the design of the platform, "Long Caster, I want to try and hit the structural reinforcements of those platforms. If we can topple those, then the guns and the ships docked below go with it. Can you update my targeting systems and help me get a bead on them?"

"Acknowledged Strider 1. Transmitting targeting data. Go serve them up a sandwich!" Long Caster answered after a moment working.

I saw my HUD update and I angled over to set up a new attack vector, "Thanks control. Skald, you're with me. Strider 3 and 4, stay high and keep those Flankers off us!"

"Wilco," 3 and 4 answered as they ascended.

My wingman and I approached low to avoid some of the fire from the AA guns as the structural weak spots were fed into our HUDs, "Strider 1, Targets acquired."

As we neared, some of their guns began to fire flak and the ordnance rocked our aircraft violently as it exploded around us. I kept my hand steady on the stick and concentrated to stay on target while some of my sensors registered some minor damage to my fighter. It was nothing critical but I didn't want that flak damage to pile up either. The F-15 had a tough hull, but I didn't want to test its limits either. As we neared and our targeting brackets went red I called out, "Let's do this Skald! Strider 1, Fox-2! Fox-2!"

We unloaded a volley of missiles at the structural supports and wove around the exploding towers as the adjoining bridges collapsed and smashed several ships below. I could hear Skald whooping in excitement as we banked around for another pass on the remaining towers. That was when Long Caster spoke in my ear giving a status update as the targets changed to the center of the structures housing explosive materials, "Platform purge confirmed. Just put the meat between those buns and the burgers will be well done."

"I thought we were serving up sandwiches Major," I quipped before locking on to the new targets.

Long Caster chuckled, "I'm happy to eat both, Strider 1."

I looked above us and saw that our squadmates Jaeger and Lanza were holding their own with the Flankers and covering us. All we needed was one more pass. With the heavy damage already done to the platform, the fire from the remaining AA guns slackened allowing Skald and I clear shots on the towers. We let fly our remaining missiles and they hit their mark causing the superstructures to cave in and collapse into the waters amid billowing clouds of fire and shrapnel. Upon seeing the destruction of their platform, the Erusean fighter planes that remained in the airspace withdrew and fled the battlefield. Even they could see this was a massacre of epic proportions and an utter disaster for their naval forces.

Once I got clear of the blast, I gave a victorious cheer and rolled in the sky before the rest of Strider Squadron regrouped around me. They all seemed exhausted but equally euphoric from the heat of the battle. Skald flew up along my wing and gave a thumbs up, "Captain Richter, you are one crazy son of a bitch... but we're glad you're on our side."

Soon enough, we saw Cyclops Squadron return from their raid on the enemy's marine platform and rejoin our formation. This was a miraculous sign. It looked like everyone had made it and we suffered no losses. On the other end, the backbone of the Erusean naval forces lay in smoldering ruins and their supply bases had been utterly demolished. As we all turned to head home, we could hear Long Caster congratulating our decisive victory, "Great work everyone. Operation complete. The Eruseans won't recover from this one. I think tonight's the night we crack open a bottle of the special stuff, eh Cyclops 1?"

"Copy that old friend," Wiseman laughed as we all changed course and headed for our new base near North Point.

I dropped back slightly to catch up with my own friend and I radioed Count to tease him, "Yo buddy. Still alive? Or was Huxian putting on a clinic for the new hatchling out there?"

"Hey cut that out, will ya?" Count grumbled back.

Huxian laughed and joined in on our conversation to tease him some more, "Oh, I will give Cyclops 2 some credit, Trigger. He's a decent pilot... albeit a 'unique' character."

Count groaned again and replied to Huxian's dig with one of his own, "Man Trigger, our old squad was bad but I guess things haven't changed much. I know I could really shine if only I had some wingmates I could trust."

"Hey, no need to worry little chick. I got your back," Major Wiseman interjected light-heartedly which caught all of us younger pilots off guard, "Just relax and do your thing."

"Oh geez."

Sure enough, there was a chorus of laughter at Count's expense among the rest of the squadron. As we continued to fly back home from such a major victory, I couldn't help but enjoy the company of my new squadmates and let myself go, joining in with the rest of the loud infectious laughter.


	3. Shadows of Doubt

_**Erusean Air and Space Administration**_  
_**Experimental Testing Facility**_

Late afternoon sunlight filtered in through the wide glass windows as Princess Rosa made her way into one of the lounges of the air base testing facility. From her vantage point, she could get a decent view of the flat white airfields outside that reflected the bright light all the more. Instead, she turned her attention to the aged pilot sitting alone in the longue with sparse accomodations. Ionela's grandfather Col. Mihaly Shilage had returned from a recent test flight and sat recovering from his sortie. Ionela and Alma had already attended to him earlier providing him oxygen and some extra pillows where he sat. Despite his old age, Rosa was still astonished at just how good of a shape Mihaly was still in. It was a wonder he had enough physical resilience to endure the high G maneuvers and stresses of air combat.

The young blonde woman approached the gray and grizzled man noting just how much Mihaly looked like an old but dangerous wolf. At her approach, Mihaly turned slowly and lowered the glass of dark red wine that he had been drinking. He lowered his head slightly in respect, "Princess Rosa. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

Rosa gave him a polite nod and sat down in a nearby chair, "Colonel Shilage. I came to look in on you and see how you were doing."

"Ah. Doing your official duties as a head of state then? To look after the kingdom's great defenders?"

Rosa smiled slightly, "Yes, but moreso for a friend. Ionela seemed concerned when I spoke to her earlier."

Mihaly nodded slowly and took a sip of his wine, "Forgive an old man his indulgences. Would Your Highness care for some?"

"No. Thank you, Colonel."

Mihaly nodded again and idly looked to the television, "I wish my granddaughters did not have to be here... to spend their time worrying about me. This is no place for respectable young ladies like them."

"Nor is it a place for a distinguished nobleman of Erusea; one that has served his country more than enough," Rosa countered gently.

Mihaly laughed quietly, "I see. So Ionela has asked you to come talk me out of flying? And for being a guinea pig for that scheming scientist Dr. Schroeder?"

Rosa kept her eyes steady with Mihaly's to try and stare him down. She did agree that Dr. Schroeder had an disquieting presence about him. Ionela had called him "creepy" and resented the fact that some mad scientist tinkering with his drones seemed all too willing to encourage Mihaly's obsession with the skies. The princess simply replied, "That may be one of my reasons."

"We all have our agendas Your Highness, but you misunderstand," Mihaly said calmly, "I don't much care about the good doctor or whatever work the Erusean government seems to get out of this. When I am in my jet, I am precisely where I need to be. For an old pilot like me, we need this. We need to stay in the place where we first felt so alive and free. I would be lost anywhere else."

"You could retire anywhere in the kingdom... to some scenic peaceful villa," Rosa offered.

Mihaly shook his head and pointed to the air, "No. My kingdom is up there with the birds, the clouds, and the sun."

"You're sure that's not your only reason?" Rosa asked, probing him some more.

Mihaly took a slow sip of his wine, "There may be another reason... and judging by the look on your face, I'd guess that's why you're here too."

Rosa shifted in her seat, surprised at the old man's perceptiveness. She took a breath and composed herself, "Colonel... perhaps you could tell me about the duel you had in Yinshi. What do you know about this Osean ace with the three lines on his tail?"

"Only that he inspires me," Miahly said solemnly, "No pilot before him that has ever challenged me alone has lived to tell the tale. I want to make sure that I am at my sharpest so that the next time we meet, we will settle things for good. Either I survive, or he does."

"Colonel, I'm begging you. Please think of Ionela and Alma," Rosa pleaded, "If you were to fall in battle, what would that leave them?"

"Free," Mihaly said quietly, "I am an old bird clinging to what's left of my once glorious perch. The younger generation... those like you are the ones who have the responsibility of moving your world forward."

"And where is that exactly?"

Mihaly looked her in the eye with a solemn expression, "You tell me Princess. You've already helped lead your country into this war. I know what I'm fighting for. The question is... do you?"

She paused and fell silent, unsure of how to answer that. Moments later, there was a breaking news report that cut in over the television in the background. Rosa and Mihaly watched as footage of Erusea's Njord Fleet came in from the battle of Snider's Top. Rosa covered her mouth in shock when she saw the new images and heard the voice of the news reporter, "Earlier today, the Njord Fleet came under surprise attack by a force of Osean fighter planes. Over eighty percent of the fleet was destroyed along with two major supply bases in the area that supported our ships. The Royal Admiralty has yet to issue a formal statement in the wake of this unprecedented naval disaster and the death toll is still being tallied, but it is estimated to be extremely high..."

As footage from the battle came in over the screen, both the princess and the veteran ace stopped and watched intently as they saw an Osean fighter with three lines on its tail flash by as the supply depot in the estuary collapsed in flames. The sight of that only encouraged Mihaly more to practice while Rosa resolved to learn more of this scourge of the Erusean military. She was interrupted from her thoughts when one of her attendants opened the door of the lounge and poked her head in, "Princess Rosa... did you hear the recent news? There are going to be some people asking for a public statement from you."

"Of course," Rosa sighed as she got up and prepared to depart. Before she did, she looked to Mihaly and the old pilot chuckled wryly.

"A pleasure talking Your Highness, but your adoring public awaits."

* * *

**_North Point, IUN Air Base_**

Upon returning home to the newest forward operating base of the LRSSG, my wingmates and I were greeted by a small crowd of our fellow Oseans as we landed that evening. Tabloid and Avril were among the new base personnel and they had all gotten news of our devastating raid on the Erusean navel forces around Snider's Top. Once we got back inside the hangers, we pilots of Strider and Cyclops Squadrons were swiftly led to the messhall where hot meals were laid for us along with some bottle of booze. It seemed that our debriefing would have to wait as everyone was in a festive mood and already drunk on the euphoria of victory. Tabloid grinned and was the first to shake my hand with a laugh, "You guys are absolutely nuts. We heard the Erusean fleet got pounded, but we were shocked to learn Strider Squadron took down a monster supply depot by yourselves."

"Ah... well, we weren't the only ones who kicked ass," I said diplomatically echoing Count's words from earlier that day, "Cyclops Squadron pulled their weight and helped too."

"You're damn right we did," Count grinned as he put a friendly arm around the shoulders of Avril who came to greet us. Under normal circumstances, she probably would have punched him in the face for that, but it seemed the Scrap Queen was feeling generous and was just glad to have us home safe and sound. As the four of us took a moment to have a reunion and pat each other on the backs, Count and I were approached by Major Wiseman and Long Caster who were holding some cups of liquor. Wiseman grinned and handed Count and I a cup.

"Drink up boys. Here's to your great first day with the unit. Drinks are courtesy of Long Caster here."

I raised my cup to our portly but generous AWACs controller and took a big gulp of the smooth aged whiskey, "Much obliged Major. Thanks!"

Long Caster chuckled and took a drink with Wiseman and Count, "If anything, I think we should be giving another toast to you Trigger. After what Strider Squadron did to that facility today..."

"Not even Cyclops Squadron was able to completely topple the marine base," Wiseman smiled proudly, "I'm sure you're going to have a handful of new shiny medals to pin on your uniform soon."

"If he wants a real reward, then I suggest we order out for some special food," Long Caster said to Wiseman, "I heard there's a great Italian food place a couple miles from the base.

"Italian? What the heck is that, sir?" Count asked scratching his head.

Long Caster grinned, "Ah... well, it's a far off exotic place, but their food is great! They put olive oil and tomato sauce on everything."

Count and I exchanged puzzled looks and shrugged before I told my wingmate, "Beats me. He must be making all that stuff up."

As the senior officers left, that was when Count turned his head and spotted Huxian heading across the room to speak to another female pilot. He straightened the collar of his flightsuit and waggled his eyebrows at me, "Hey, I'll catch you later Trigger. I've got to give a debriefing to Huxian over there."

As he headed off to try and flirt with her again, Avril shook her head and walked off after him, "Don't worry guys, I'll go make sure he doesn't make too big an ass of himself."

Tabloid and I took a moment to watch the other people in the messhall shaking hands and catching up with each other until we caught a broadcast coming from a nearby television that was showing the news. Just like at the base in Zapland, everyone quieted down a little more and listened as the newscaster reported on the current war and recounted the devastating losses inflicted on the Eruseans today. A few cheers were heard as footage of the sinking fleet and the crumbling supply base in the estuary was shown. The mood then shifted slightly when we caught a soundbyte of the Erusean response to the battle's aftermath. There on the screen was a new video of Princess Rosa Cossette D'Elise giving a live statement from earlier in the day.

"People of Erusea... I've received word of a tragic setback in northern Usea today. The forces of the Osean Federation continue to attack indiscriminately and harm our people, especially in the battle at Snider's Top today. Our prayers go to the brave people of our naval forces that have been lost and I ask that this help strengthen our resolve against our enemy in the future. Erusea has suffered defeats in the past but has always bounced back. I believe that same resilience will see us through this storm and I ask that you have faith in our armed forces, in me, and most importantly... in each other."

There were a few people in the messhall who began to laugh and jeer a little bit at the flowery overly optimistic words of the princess. I continued watching Rosa and while I admit I am not an expert in body language, I couldn't help but notice that she might have seemed a little less confident and certain in her delivery. For some reason, her posture, her tone and her voice lacked a little of her usual strength and conviction. Perhaps the news of this defeat had caught her off guard? Perhaps she was preoccupied with something else?

I continued watching the screen even as a lot of the other people around us turned away and went back to their celebrations. Tabloid seemed to notice that I had grown quiet. He put a hand on my shoulder, "Hey Trigger, you okay? Don't tell me the Princess was getting in your head just now."

I looked to my friend and gave a thoughtful look, "Not exactly. I was just wondering something. I was wondering if Princess Rosa really believes what she's saying."

"Haven't you been listening man? She's the figurehead of the Erusean war machine and her words are helping to keep them going," Tabloid said.

"Even in the face of such a crippling loss?" I mused, "Erusea's military aren't slouches, but let's be honest... they can't possibly think they can win a protracted war with us."

Tabloid shrugged, "Who knows? Maybe she's just a wide eyed idealist. After all, she's a little younger. Barely eighteen, I think."

"Not that much younger than us either," I pointed out. I shook my head slightly, "It's too bad really. She's got so much poise and charisma and she's just using it to lead her people to war instead."

Tabloid snorted, "You really think there's hope for someone like her? That if you just sit down and talk to her that you'd be able to change her mind and end this war?"

"Well... I don't know about that exactly," I admitted with a shrug, "Besides, what are the chances I'd ever get to meet Princess Rosa? Still, there is one other thing in my power that I'd like to try and do if it helps end the war faster."

Tabloid looked to me and listened intently as I met his gaze, "You like to read and research. Maybe you could help me look into something? Huxian got me thinking and I want to learn more about this Mr. X character, the guy that's become a boogeyman for our pilots."

"That scary enemy ace that you dueled at Yinshi? Are you out of your gourd?" Tabloid asked me.

A shadow crossed over my face as I looked over all our other celebrating comrades in the room, "If the LRSSG succeeds in its mission, I just have a feeling we're bound to run into him again and when we do, I don't want him taking down any more of my comrades."

Tabloid crossed his arms, "So what are we talking about here? Go all Full Band and scout this guy?"

"Something like that. Yeah," I said, "Full Band did say that intel is everything in war, did't he?"

Tabloid looked to me and studied my face for a long moment before giving a sigh, "You're really serious, aren't you? Okay... I might not be able to fly with you right now, but I'm still your wingman here on the ground, right?"

"Thanks Tabloid," I smiled clapping him on the shoulder, "Now come on. Let's go join the others and try to have some fun tonight. God knows we've earned it this time."

* * *

Early the next morning, Tabloid and Avril made their way out to the hangers to do some work on the Eagles of Trigger and Count. No doubt they would need a great deal of repairs, maintenance, and cleaning after such a ferocious battle against the backbone of the Erusean Navy. All the pilots would certainly be sleeping in and nursing hangovers so it fell to the support crews to step up and do their part today. A few other base mechanics were already there servicing some other planes and refueling them which suited Tabloid and Avril just fine. They wanted some peace and quiet while they worked to keep their friends' aircraft in top form.

As they walked across the hanger, Tabloid couldn't help but laugh a little watching him and Avril hobble along. Like him, Avril had suffered a leg injury from a crash some time ago and it caused her to walk with a little bit of a limp. But unlike him, her condition seemed a little more permanent. Maybe it still bothered her a little bit, but she seemed to take it in stride and continued to be her tough aggressive self, rather than feel overly depressed about it. At least for now, they seemed like an unlikely duo and with the way they walked, a sorry looking one at that.

Tabloid made his way carefully up a ladder and hobbled into the cockpit of Trigger's plane to do an instrument check while Avril paced around near the back to do some inspections. She already seemed displeased and grumbled loudly in annoyance, "You know what, Tabloid? I think I'm going to yell at Trigger whenever I see him later today. I keep telling that hotdog not to push his thrusters too hard. One of these days, that dumbass is going to blow out his engines in the middle of a fight and I won't be around to clean up after him!"

Tabloid smiled and shook his head before settling in to the seat of the fighter. He took a moment to get comfortable with the layout of the cockpit and he took the stick. Despite the fact that Trigger had put his aircraft through the ringer in the last battle, it was a nice plane and Tabloid enjoyed sitting in a better jet than he had been accustomed to in Spare Squadron. As he sat and gripped the stick with one hand and the throttle lever with the other, Tabloid imagined flying in one of these Eagles and being back in the skies with his friends again. But the longer he sat there imagining, the more the memories of the battle in Bulgurdarest began to creep into his mind.

He remembered the missile headed for Avril's transport plane and he recalled the violent lurch his Mirage fighter took when he interposed himself with the missile. He relived the recoil and the violent shake as the fuselage of his plane erupted with a large gaping wound of fire and smoke. His heartbeat began to quicken and his breathing grew shallow as Tabloid recalled the terrifying feeling of freefall with the smoke and shrapnel trailing behind him. He could hear Trigger's voice calling to him over the radio, but Tabloid could not answer his comrade. He violently pulled at the auto eject mechanism several times, hoping and praying it would activate before he hit the ground and suffered a fiery ignominious death like his other comrades in Spare; like High Roller, Champ, and Full Band.

He could hear the siren blaring in his plane repeating the word "warning" over and over again before the canopy blew off and he was catapulted into the air. He didn't remember much else after hitting the low treeline on his descent as he was knocked out for a while. Still, he was gripped by the sudden traumatic memories of his last flight before he heard Avril's voice calling him.

"Yo Tabloid! Tabloid? Hey... Steve, you okay?"

Tabloid blinked and found himself back in the safety of the hangers inside the cockpit of Trigger's grounded fighter. He reached over and clamped his hand down over his other hand on the throttle and found that it was trembling. Once he took a breath and steadied himself, he looked over the edge of the open canopy where Avril was standing below, "Everything okay up there? I wanted to do some work on the engines once you were done checking the instruments.

"Right... yeah. Everything is fine. I'm fine," Tabloid said quickly as he got out of the cockpit and hobbled down off the ladder. Avril eyed him for a minute and then shrugged before going back to her own work. Tabloid watched her wack back toward the rear of the plane before pulled his hand from the pocket of his coveralls. His hand was still shaking, but not so much anymore. Hopefully Avril hadn't seen any of that and he hoped that whatever happened just now, would be the last time that it did.


	4. Standing Stones

_**North Point, IUN Air Base**_  
_**August 18, 2019**_

A little over a week had passed since the attack on the Erusean Navy at Snider's Top. Things had been relatively quiet and we guessed that the enemy was probably busy licking its wounds. Not that we minded a brief rest from the fighting either. I had heard some idle chatter that the Osean Army along with our Usean allies were preparing some kind of ground operation in the near future, but that was about all I knew. For today, my attention was focused on the pool table in the base's rec lounge. That afternoon, I had decided to join Count, Avril, and Huxian for a few games of pool in our off hours. We had decided to play doubles and I leaned on my stick while my teammate Huxian took her shot on the table.

"This is getting interesting," Avril remarked to Count as Huxian sank a ball in a side pocket, "Tie score."

Count looked to me and scratched his chin, "What do you say Trigger, you wanna do best out of three after this? Double or nothing?"

"You're starting to sound like High Roller," I chuckled before Huxian took her turn and passed to Count.

"What can I say? The guy always did make things a little more interesting," Count grinned as he applied some chalk to his stick, "What good is a game if there's no stakes? No wager to play for?"

"All right," Huxian offered, "How about this. If Trigger and I win, you can both scrub our planes down and give them a top to bottom cleaning."

"Deal," Count said to Huxian as he took aim, "And if Avril and I win, then you let me buy you a drink at the officer's club."

"And Trigger gives me his dessert at chowtime for a week," Avril added.

I looked to Huxian and gave her a shrug before she cleared her throat and said in a sweet voice, "Okay. Just try not to miss... Eugene."

That last minute name drop threw Count off and caused him to miss his shot. "Hey... not cool."

Before we could share a laugh about it, there was a knock on the open door of the rec lounge and Major Wiseman popped his head inside, "Hey! Look alive pilots. Orders just came in from HQ. We've got a new mission briefing in twenty minutes. Let's go!"

The rest of us save for Avril all gave mild groans and grumbles as we put down our sticks and headed for the door to follow our wing commander. Before we did, Avril used that opportunity to take her own shot and sink a ball before pointing to me on the way out.

"I'll see you at dinner Trigger! Your dessert is mine!"

* * *

A while later, the pilots of Strider and Cyclops Squadrons gathered in the briefing room of the base and they chattered with each other, speculating what our next assignment might be. As we took our seats, Wiseman and Long Caster entered the room and called us to order. Wiseman took the lead and gave a wave as Long Caster brought up a tactical display on the main screen, "All right, settle down everyone! I need you to listen because this is very important! It's clear that our counteroffensive has begun to change the course of this war."

He gestured to a region within the north central area of Usea, "However, the western part of the continent and the area around the space elevator still remain under Erusean control. As you know, this is because of the presence of the Arsenal Birds controlling the skies around the Lighthouse. We plan to use the giant railguns of Stonehenge for a long range attack against the Arsenal Birds."

There was an audible murmur of surprise among us pilots. It sounded like a crazy plan, but in a way it was also kind of creative and genius in its own way. As one of the older pilots, Jaeger exclaimed, "Stonehenge? You really want us go there?"

Long Caster took over the briefing, "In addition to helping shoot down the asteroid Ulysses, Stonehenge was used by the Erusean forces as a super weapon in the Continental War of the past. Presently, the majority of artillery there had been knocked out of commission after an air raid by the ISAF during that war. The Osean Army has begun to make repairs in secret and have managed to reactivate the base systems. Once preparations are complete, one of the guns should be ready to fire again. The officer in charge there has yet to confirm whether it can fire more than once. That said, it looks like we may only have one chance to take down just one of the Arsenal Birds. As of now, our contact there will be Major Deanna McOnie and she will keep us posted on her progress."

He opened up a communication channel to her at the Stonehenge facility and the image of a blonde woman in an Osean Army uniform appeared onscreen. She was a somewhat attractive bespectacled woman in her early thirties and she gave a nod from the video feed, "I'm here Major. We've made some progress in restoring the main firing mechanism and rebooting the system but it's going to take some time yet. I believe we can get one of these railguns up and running within twenty-four hours."

"I hate to say this Major, but we might not even have a full day to give you," Wiseman replied, "Our newest intel has Erusean forces already on the move. If they're headed where I think they are, they could be wise to our plan."

McOnie nodded, "Understood sir. I'll have my assistant Warrant Officer Lehmann on this as well. We'll work all night if we have to. I just hope you'll be able to spare us a little extra help. We could use the insurance."

"Don't worry Major. You can count on the LRSSG," Long Caster reassured her, "Good luck."

Once the video feed cut out, I spoke up.

"This is all pretty ironic sir," I remarked with a grim laugh while pointing out the history of the place, "We're going to seize and use a superweapon that was once captured by the Eruseans to destroy one of our own super weapons that they've taken control of."

Long Caster nodded and continued, "Indeed. Bottom line is, we're going all in on this one plan. Unfortunately, the Eruseans have detected our movements and are marching on Stonehenge. One of the Arsenal Birds are also closing in but if all goes as planned, we should be able to shoot it down before it reaches the operation area."

Wiseman stepped up again and pointed out some Osean defense points that had been established, "We've set up strongpoints designated as Menhirs around Stonehenge. Your job will be to provide air support while maintaining air superiority. We have to protect Stonehenge until it can shoot that bird down. If we succeed, then that will significantly reduce the scale of the enemy's air defense network. We cannot afford to miss this shot and I don't think I have to tell you that failure is not an option here."

As the meeting adjourned, Count, Huxian, and I continued to sit and look quietly at the map. Huxian narrowed her eyes and studied the readout, "Major Wiseman might be right about this. You guys realize if we pull this mission off, this can potentially change the whole course of this war?"

I nodded quietly and wore a dark expression on my face, "That's all well and good Lin. But taking down one of those damned birds once and for all will be good enough for me."

What Count and Huxian didn't understand was that I had a personal score to settle with the Arsenal Birds. Before I had even been transferred to Spare Squadron, I had faced one of those monsters and watched as it decimated my old flight group and killed several of my friends. I had been traumatized for a while by the thought of combating those drone fighters and even now I still felt a little unnerved by it. I had even survived some long range attacks of the Arsenal Bird's Helios missiles and those weapons had been terrifying to experience as well. I was determined not to feel that way again, or let any other young pilots face those same kind of mental scars.

Count raised an eyebrow, "Trigger?"

I got up and stalked off without saying anything more. As far as I was concerned, I had a lot of pre-flight preparations left to make.

* * *

_**Erusean Air and Space Administration**_  
_**Experimental Testing Facility**_

The steady hum and whirring of machinery filled the air as Princess Rosa walked down a hallway of the EASA testing facility and entered a large laboratory. She was escorted by a female scientist who worked there and Rosa was led to a computer terminal. Once the scientist left, Rosa activated the computer and began to use it to pull up confidential information she had requested from some of her intelligence sources that were close to the royal family. She realized these computers here were designed for scientific research and not not so much for intelligence gathering, but it was the most safely encrypted system she had available to her here. Following the battle of Snider's Top and her brief talk with Col. Shilage, Rosa had asked for help in gathering information about the Osean ace with the three lines, an enemy pilot who was quickly gaining a degree of notoriety and dread among the Erusean military. So far, details were sparse.

It seemed this pilot went by the call-sign of Trigger. He was known to be a risk taker and have an aggressive flying style, and he didn't have a long record behind him either. That meant he had to have been a relatively younger pilot. One other bit of intel that caught her attention was a rumor he had served some time in an Osean penal unit. She was sure that more information would be dug up by her sources in time, but this was all they had. Princess Rosa sat back in her chair and digested the information, but it only piqued her curiosity even more. She wondered what this Trigger must have done to be put in a penal unit, and about how he was talented enough to fight Mihaly to a draw. He sounded dangerous, interesting, and for a brief moment she couldn't help but wonder if this young pilot was handsome as well.

Her flight of fancy was interrupted when she heard the door of the lab open as someone entered. She shut off her computer and turned her head when she heard a familiar voice. She spun around slowly in her seat and turned around to meet him, "Ah... Princess Rosa. I'm sorry. I didn't know you'd be here."

Rosa looked to the bespectacled scientist who entered the lab and saw that it was Dr. Schroeder, one of the lead scientists handling Erusea's drone program and the experiments with Colonel Shilage. Rosa smoothed out her white skirt and rose primly, "Dr. Schroeder. I should be the one apologizing. I didn't expect anyone would be using the lab right now."

Schroeder studied her quietly for a moment and Rosa couldn't help but be reminded of her friend Ionela's description of him: "creepy" and "unsettling." It wasn't so much borne of any suspicion that he was some kind of pervert or stalker. Rather, it was due to the doctor's seemingly detached and clinical attitude toward everyone... like he viewed everyone around him as some kind of curious test subject that needed to be examined in detail. He shrugged and walked across the room before sitting down at another computer terminal, "I suppose you're working on some sort of project of your own, Your Highness? Or have you taken an interest in our drone program?"

"I suppose it was a personal matter," Rosa admitted deciding to remain vague, "Something that Colonel Shilage made me curious about."

Schroeder nodded as he typed away idly, "I can understand. Mihaly has made me curious about quite a number of things myself. The man is a fascinating test subject and the data he's provided us is remarkable."

"Even at the expanse of his health?" Rosa asked pointedly, Is that all you see him as? A test subject? The man is a decorated veteran and there are people concerned about him."

Schroeder sighed, "You misunderstand Princess. This drone technology that he's helping us to perfect will benefit all of us in the long run. With drones that can fly as well as him, if not better... then we will have no need of human pilots, pilots that are fallible and imperfect. Colonel Shilage can retire and Erusea will be protected by a fleet of highly capable autonomous drones. Isn't that what you want for your war effort?"

Rosa paused and fell quiet as she wrestled with some conflicting feelings. Schroeder pressed on, "Think of it Your Highness. Think of all the lives and materiel lost in the recent defeat at Snider's Top. With a drone air force, no human lives will ever need to be lost again. We can always replace lost drones much faster and cheaper than human pilots, don't you think?"

"I... suppose you have a point," Rosa conceded. Still, this made her start to feel a little more queasy about the war effort that she had been helping to propagate. She wondered for a moment if coming to this facility had been a good idea at all. Between her talks with Ionela, Mihaly, and now Dr. Schroeder, she was starting to have some second thoughts.

The doctor looked to her curiously for a moment as a brief silence fell over the room, "Was there something else, Your Highness?"

Rosa shook her head and began to make a retreat out of the lab, "I... no. That's all doctor. Please carry on with your work."

Schroeder watched her depart in silence before giving a little sniff and going back to his data tables.

* * *

**_Airspace of Stonehenge Turret Network, Hatties Desert_**  
**_August 19, 2019_**

The next day, our lead fighter wing of the LRSSG departed our base and made our way toward the deserts of western Usea. For now, Strider and Cyclops Squadrons had not come across any Erusean resistance as we changed course and made our final approach toward the site of Stonehenge. The skies were partly cloudy and a bright sun lit up the blue heavens above. Down below, we pilots were starting to spot the Menhir defensive positions that had been set up by the Osean military and their Usean allies. As we neared our target, I could see the giant ringed facility and the numerous gun installations that were set up in a circle within it. I couldn't help but give a low whistle as I stared in awe of the colossal rail guns. Each one looked like it was the size of a skyscraper itself and it was hard to imagine this super weapon was now a relic of a past war that occurred several decades ago. I had read about Stonehenge in history books and I'd seen pictures of it when I was young. I just never thought I'd be seeing it up close and in person right now.

The other pilots in our squadrons fell silent probably wondering similar things. How much power did it take to run one of those monstrous guns? How much damage could one shot do? What was its effective rage? Who was the mad genius who developed such a weapon in the past? Huxian was the first to speak up as we did a flyby, "So that's Stonehenge, huh? Looks bigger than I imagined... uglier too."

"Look at that mess of cables," Skald added referring to the gun that was being restored, "It looks like they're using several generator trucks just to power that gun."

Count wrinkled his features slightly, "Are we even sure that rusty hunk of junk is even going to fire? Seriously, I mean... how old is it? At least twenty years?"

"Happy thoughts Count. Just say a prayer this works, okay?" I called back over.

One of the other pilots in the squadron by the name of Fencer chimed in, "If it even fires, we have to hope it'll be able to hit in the first place."

"Okay you know what? Cut the chatter," I replied in mild annoyance to quiet the squadron, "Let's worry about keeping the airspace clear. We'll let the engineers do their job and worry about the rest."

That was when Major Wiseman cut in and angled his fighter to the southwest, "I think you might have spoken too soon Strider 1. I'm picking up multiple enemy contacts on the ground approaching Stonehenge."

Sure enough, we could see a convoy of Erusean tanks and armored vehicles making their way from the cover of some dunes, hoping to catch our forces sleeping. Long Caster spoke up over our radios , "All right. I'm raising the alarm to all our ground units. Strider and Cyclops Squadrons, you are clear to engage the enemy."

I throttled up and armed the weapon systems of my Eagle before lowering the visor of my helmet down over my eyes, "All right gang, Operation Dragon's Breath is a go!"


	5. Turkey Shoot

The sound of screaming missiles and gunfire echoed through the desert air as we engaged the Erusean forces attacking Stonehenge. Strider Squadron was first to pounce upon a large column of enemy armor just as it crossed over the lip of a large sand dune. Skald and I dove sharply and opened up with our cannons to strafe the APCs with gunfire. The rounds shredded the lighter vehicles to pieces while Jaeger and Lanza disposed of the heavily armored tanks with their missiles. As our squadron roared by from the devastating air strike, Cyclops Squadron followed up for a deadly one–two punch. Whatever tanks or artillery pieces we missed on our first pass were mopped up by Wiseman, Count, and Huxian.

"Score one for the good guys!" Count cheered as he swooped by and took out a mobile AA gun.

"Don't get too comfy Cyclops 2," Wiseman advised his squadron, "I'm sure we'll have a lot of targets left to deal with so watch your ammo."

As if our commander was prophetic, we all suddenly saw multiple groups of enemy ground units approaching the area. Our allied ground units had all been placed in strategic spots to head off any advancing force, but it looked like it was going to be a tough fight for everyone today. Lanza growled, "Damn… look at all the enemies. It's an all out assault! They're not messing around!"

Long Caster chimed in over our radio and his normally calm voice even had an edge of tension in it, "Pilots, we've got multiple hotspots flaring up on the perimeter. Menhirs 3 and 6 are under heavy fire and requesting air support."

"Copy that Long Caster," I answered, "We're on it. Striders on 3. Let's help our boys out."

Our squadrons split off to assist our ground troops at different ends of the defensive perimeter. As Strider Squadron made an approach on the units of Menhir 3, we could see explosions and heavy gunfire being exchanged between the armored vehicles on both sides. As we came under heavy fire from some mobile AA guns, the Striders broke formation and tumbled aside to make another pass from the rear. Skald called out a warning to us while the enemy gun turret swiveled around to meet us, "Watch it! We're coming in hot!"

"Look at this battle!" Jaeger called over as he took a moment to survey the fighting on the ground, "I can't wait to tell my son about this."

"Let's worry about surviving the battle so you can tell him," I replied tersely before we opened up on the enemy armor with our missiles and guns. Large sprays of sand were kicked up before several of the Erusean tanks exploded into fireballs and smoking wrecks.

Across the other end of the battlefield, I could hear the dull booms and rumbling as Cyclops Squadron launched their own air strike on the Erusean invaders. After some radio interference, I heard Huxian growl, "These guys are all over the place! It's like playing goddamn whack-a-mole out here!"

Strider Squadron circled back around the Stonehenge perimeter and picked off remaining Erusean armor that survived the first pass. So far we had managed to keep the enemy at bay, but with the pace of the enemy's aggressive pushes, it was only just barely. I could hear some of our ground units that we have covered give some tired cheers as we did a flyby and one of them called, "Hey! Whichever pilot is up there with the three lines, I'm buying your group beer later!"

I gave a small smile and a thumbs up toward the Osean tankers below while Count radioed in from nearby, "I dunno guys. I'm liking my score right now, but I think my guns need to take five to cool down."

Wiseman called down to one of the other allied tank commanders, "Your area is clear for now. Give your men a five minute break."

"Thanks. That should be just enough time for me to reattach some of my lost limbs."

Count balked slightly in his own cockpit at the odd response. He couldn't tell if that ground pounder was being serious or just enjoying some dark humor, "Wait… what did that guy just say?"

"Never mind. How about you just be glad we're up here and not down there," Huxian offered instead.

Wiseman ignored the chatter and radioed Deanna down below within the base, "Major McOnie? How's the gun coming along? We could use it sooner rather than later."

"Sorry Major Wiseman," McOnie answered. She sounded rushed and her tone carried a clear edge to it, "Lehmann and I are going to need just a little more time. We're still powering the gun and running the final diagnostic scans."

"I hate to cut in here, but we have more party crashers," Long Caster interjected over our radios. "We have a new Erusean armor column approaching from the south and a flight of enemy bombers inbound bearing 190. We can't let them reach Stonehenge or it's all over."

"Shit!" Wiseman growled, "Cyclops form up on me and prepare to strike those tanks. Strider Squadron, can you knock those bombers down for us?"

"Understood. We'll take them," I answered as Strider Squadron peeled off to intercept the incoming bombers. As our fighters soared across the desert sands, I couldn't help but think back to the defense of Zapland's air base from Erusean bombers. There was a feeling of _deja vu_, but I reminded myself things were very different now. Our squadron was different, our planes were different, and so was our AWACS controller. Most importantly, the stakes were different. At the time, I didn't give much of a damn if some bombs were dropped on Zapland, but if any of these bombers got through to Stonehenge, millions of lives could be at stake.

"Lanza. Skald. Take the lead bombers. Eleven o clock high. Jaeger, you're with me. We'll go low and hit the rear of the formation."

"Roger that Strider Leader," my wingmen answered, "Wilco."

Striders 2 and 4 ascended and attacked the lead bombers as they approached from high altitude while Jaeger and I throttled forward and evaded some gunfire to position ourselves at the enemy rear. Upon seeing they were caught in an aerial pincer attack, the bombers tried to break formation and scatter, but it was too late. A well placed missile from each of us blew gaping holes in the bombers' fuselages and tail fixtures. We gave a cheer as we saw two of the bombers explode in midair while the other two broke apart and spiraled to the ground trailing a cloud of wreckage.

"Long Caster, enemy bombers have been neutralized," I reported happily but our controller fed us some new data.

"Hold your horses Trigger. The enemy is coming back for second helpings. We've got a helo-borne assault unit inbound with escorts from the northeast bearing 210 and and a rocket unit approaching from the southwest."

Huxian gave a scoff, "Too many damn cooks in the kitchen, eh? Let's serve em up something hot for Long Caster."

"Roger Cyclops 4. Major Wiseman, Strider will take the helo-unit."

Again our unit made a quick change of direction and raced across the battlefield to intercept the new wave of approaching enemies while a ground battle still raged below between the Army units. Once we cleared Stonehenge, we could see a small fleet of incoming Erusean choppers carrying heavy weapons and assault troops. Flying close to them were a trio of enemy A-10 assault planes. "No mercy Striders! Let's swat these bugs!"

We charged right into the enemy formation like the knights on our emblem and flew into a hail of their gunfire and missiles. Our aggressive maneuver startled the enemy causing them to break and scatter in the wake of getting buzzed. The Eagles of our squadron made steep climbs followed by a momentary stall to turn and roll back down on the enemy for diving attacks. The skies around us exploded in fire as we tore through the choppers and mangled them with gunfire and missiles. To casual observers on the ground it looked like a small pack of desert hawks ripping apart a flock of slow moving pigeons in midair. Amid the aerial scrum, one of the remaining A-10s turned sharply and tried to catch me with a quick banking maneuver. I could already hear the "Brrrrt!" sound of its gun turret roaring, but it couldn't tag me.

I matched the bandit with a high-G turn and outmaneuvered it with my more nimble fighter before sending a missile straight into the enemy's wing and blowing it apart. The bandit lurched sideways and tumbled from the skies as I flew by and gave a wave to the dying assault plane, "Happy Brrrt-day sucker."

As Strider Squadron finished mopping up, I heard Count call out from the distance, "Hey! The enemy ground attack is finally letting up!"

Sure enough, the remaining Eruseans who had been repelled in the ground battle began to pull back and withdraw. Fencer gave a sigh, "Nice! Does this mean we won?"

"Stay sharp pilots. This could just be a pause in between waves," Wiseman instructed all of us, "Make your ammo checks and don't let your guards down."

I glanced at my instruments and saw that I had expended half of my ordnance already. I normally liked to fight a little more aggressively, but in this battle, we didn't quite know what to expect either.

Just as our squadrons regrouped and took up a holding pattern around Stonehenge, we heard Long Caster give a surprised shout, "Striders! Cyclops! I'm picking up a high speed projectile incoming. It's not an aircraft. I think it's a…"

He didn't have time to finish his sentence as we saw a small cruise missile streak into the airspace and detonate. Count and I were starting to get vivid terrifying flashbacks of the Wiapolo Mountains as several bright orbs of blue fire erupted around us and hung in the air like lanterns. There was a rush of heat and the force of the shockwaves violently rattled our F-15 Eagles, so much that we could feel our teeth rattling in our heads.

"Son of a bitch!" I shouted in fear and anger as the shockwave passed and I noticed some scorch marks on the hull of my aircraft, "It can't be…"

"What the hell was that?" Huxian cried in alarm as some of the others in Strider and Cyclops voiced their own fear and confusion.

Count ignored them and directly addressed me, "Trigger? Was that what I thought it was? Was that a Helios missile?"

"It sure looked like one," I nodded, "Major Wiseman, we need to spread our formation out and keep clear! That thing is a super missile called Helios and it's carried by the Arsenal Birds!"

Sure enough, my fears were confirmed as Long Caster radioed us with clear dread in his voice, "Stand by, I'm picking up something new on my radar. The signal is massive! It's... the Arsenal Bird!"

The rest of us turned and looked toward the southwestern skies and saw a massive winged monstrosity descending from the cloud cover. We had all been so preoccupied by the battle, we didn't even realize it had gotten so close to the region. Huxian gulped, "Damn... so that's the Arsenal Bird?"

"You sure you still want to tell your son about this one too?" Skald needled his wingman Jaeger before the Arsenal Bird fired another Helios missile.

"Cyclops! Striders! Break! Break!" I shouted in alarm, "Evade that missile!"

Our squadronmates gave another chorus of alarmed cries as the missile went off and shattered the skies around us with clouds of sound, heat, and blinding light. As our fighters scrambled, my vision cleared and I saw Fencer's plane going down out the corner of my eye. His fuselage was scorched and a wing was blown clean off. The pilot gave one more radio transmission before escaping with his ejection seat, "I'm hit! Going down... I've got to bail!"

Before we could regroup again, we saw the Arsenal bird deploy its cloud of smaller drone fighters from its wings to launch an aerial counterattack. Just when we thought we controlled Stonehenge's airspace, things quickly went from bad to worse. I didn't want a repeat of the battle at Chopinburg either.

"Here they come!" Count shouted in dread.

Out of concern, Long Caster contacted McOnie demanding a stats report, "Major! What's going on? Our pilots are under attack. They're not going to be able to hold out forever against that monster!"

"We need about 60 seconds to fire Long Caster!" McOnie replied, "The closer that bird gets, the better our chances of hitting it."

Our AWACS controller radioed all of us, "Pilots, you heard the Major. stand your ground and keep those UAVs from Stonehenge."

"It's open hunting season today," I quipped darkly toward the incoming drones, "Looks like we've got a turkey shoot on our hands Long Caster."

"As long as you're not serving chicken instead," he replied.

I watched as the UAV's dove down on our squadrons and the drones zipped around like a cloud of angry bees. I gritted my teeth and rolled through the crowded melee to avoid midair collisions while trying to harry some of the drones that whizzed by. I sprayed gunfire at a couple and shot down a drone, but it didn't matter. For every one we dropped, it seemed two more took its place, all while that damn Arsenal Bird hovered overhead like some giant winged predator waiting to finish us off.

"This is insane!" Count shouted in dread as he wove through the chaos and tried to fly alongside me, "They're all over us!"

I could hear Warrant Officer Lehmann frantically talking in the background, going over the firing procedures and speaking in techno-babble. At the moment, I was more concerned with staying alive as the aerial battle raged and our fighters buzzed high around Stonehenge trying to keep a desperate holding pattern. "Live projectile loaded. Power level at 100 percent."

We listened with baited breath as the engineers did the final count down. As it neared zero, there was a long pause as Lehmann went quiet. All of us pilots looked around in desperation and saw that nothing had happened! The Stonehenge cannon had not fired! Wiseman gave a loud shout amid his own battle, "What hell is going on down there?"

"Stop the countdown. We've lost the target!" Lehmann called.

"Lost the target?" Count exclaimed in outrage, "Do you need your damn eyes checked? That big freaking bird is sitting right here in the open!"

McOnie answered fearfully, "Our survey data isn't updating... we're getting no readings from the survey vehicles. They must have been destroyed in the battle! Those things were Stonehenge's eyes. Without them... I'm sorry."

After a moment, Lehmann spoke up, "Don't give up yet Major. We still have our sensors... our eyes. The oldest sensors in the books."

She considered it and radioed everyone, "All right. It's our only shot. Attention all Osean forces! We will now be using direct fire to shoot down the Arsenal Bird. I need our pilots to attack the Arsenal Bird's central propellers. If you can damage them, it should slow the bird down enough for us to get a clean shot."

"Strider 1. Cyclops 1. It's up to you to disable those propellers," Long Caster cut in urgently. "Everyone else, defend Stonehenge from those UAV's."

Inwardly I wanted to say "Are you freaking kidding me?" but I swallowed hard and simply replied, "Wilco."

"Jaeger! Take the lead," Wiseman said giving an order to one of the other veteran pilots to lead the other defenders in the air.

As Wiseman and I throttled up and ascended to meet the Arsenal Bird head on, Count wavered and considered breaking away from the formation to join us, "I'm going! Those propellers are too much for Trigger alone."

He was sharply rebuked by Huxian, "You damn glory hound! Do your friggin' job!"

"Count! We need someone to take down those UAV's," Wiseman added, "I know you can do it."

Count watched us break away and gritted his teeth. He felt conflicted and hated being left out. He and I had flown together in some of the fiercest battles and he didn't want to be relegated to the rear guard, "Damn it! Trigger, do not fubar this!"

Wiseman and I fought our way toward the tail of the Arsenal Bird and as we made our first pass, we unloaded a joint salvo of missile and gunfire at one of its two primary propellers. The rotors were blasted apart and smoke began to billow from the wound as we prepared to take out the other one. Unfortunately, that caught the attention of all the other drones that circled around the Arsenal Bird and they moved to protect it at all costs. Wiseman and I both fired another missile and sprayed cannon fire at our target but the hive of UAV's flew right in the way, sacrificing themselves to prevent any further damage to their carrier ship.

"Damn! This swarm is too thick!" I shouted, "At this rate, we won't have enough time or ammo left to blow out that propeller!"

By now, the UAV's that guarded the Arsenal Bird began to fire back at Wiseman and I with their own guns and the shots hammered against our plane's armor. We didn't have long to hold our position until that sustained attack would cause major damage to our Eagles. Wiseman flew slightly ahead and unloaded all his weapons on the target, "Get ready to fire Trigger! I'll clear your way!"

As expected, a group of UAVs dove down and sacrificed themselves to take the missile hits and gunfire from Wiseman. In that exchange, Wiseman gave a grunt and screened me from some intercepting fire, taking substantial damage to his own Eagle. It was because of that sacrifice, a small window of time had been bought by Wiseman so that I could take a clean shot. I let fly my last two missiles at the target and said a prayer. The projectiles streaked forward and hit dead center, blowing out the second propeller of the Arsenal Bird and spraying shrapnel everywhere. As the mangled propellers ground to a halt and caused the Arsenal Bird to slow, Wiseman and I broke away and raced to get clear of the flying behemoth.

We roared back toward our comrades who were still locked in a fierce battle with the UAV's and arrived just in time to see Huxian's Eagle take a glancing hit from a missile. It exploded prematurely but shredded part of her wing. She gave a startled cry while trying to steady her crippled aircraft. Nearby Count turned in shock and moved to help, "Cyclops 4 is hit!"

"I'll be fine Count. I'm not out of the fight just yet," she growled in determination wanting to stay in the battle to help her squadron.

"Girl, don't try to be a damn hero. The last thing I need is a dead pilot. Pull out and get back to the airstrip," Wiseman scolded her as his own Eagle limped along, "I'm pulling out too. Follow me!"

She gave an unhappy grumble and pulled her fighter free of the combat, "Wilco. Over."

The moment Count and I joined up on each other's wings, we could hear McOnie and Lehmann finishing their firing protocol and countdown, "5, 4, 3, 2, 1... Fire!"

Everyone of us Oseans present held our collective breaths and watched in awe as one of the massive Stonehenge railguns creaked to life and fired a round at the incoming Arsenal Bird. There was a colossal roar of the gun and I could have sworn I saw the air ripple with a visible shockwave as the cannon came to life. The projectile streaked up into the sky just as the Arsenal Bird activated its own defensive force shield but it was a futile effort. The railgun blast punched through the half-formed shield and blasted straight through the body of the flying superweapon. We continued to stare in silence with wide eyes and gaping jaws as the force of the shot sheared through the Arsenal Bird and tore it clean in half. The once seemingly indestructible monster that struck fear into the hearts of pilots everywhere began to fall towards the earth amid a cloud of smoke a shrapnel. The remains of the two halves spiraled down into the desert sands several miles away and erupted into a spectacular fiery explosion that blossomed into a small mushroom cloud.

Once we had realized what had happened, our comm lines erupted into a chorus of elated cheers from the LRSSG and the Osean Army. Without the control of their carrier bird, the UAV drones deactiated and crashed aimlessly to the ground in a rain of metal that punctuated the death of the Arsenal Bird. I tore off my oxygen mask and gave a giddy whoop of victory as the grounds around Stonehenge settled down once more. "Striders? Cyclops? Way to go you guys! Major McOnie? You too!"

On the other end of the line, Major McOnie gave a relieved sigh, "Thanks, but this victory belongs to Lehmann here. That was a good lesson on the importance of manual control today."

"Ah geez Major, you're making me blush now," Lehmann answered with a sheepish laugh, "I think we owe some credit to the LRSSG. Especially those two lead birds... the Osean Big Shots."

"You mean to Osean Big Shot," Count said quietly as he flew alongside me and looked toward my cockpit. I looked back to him in mild confusion and wondered what he meant by that. His voice seemed a little more subdued and not as giddy as the rest of our wingmen who were chattering excitedly among themselves. It almost sounded like there was a hint of soreness in his voice.

"Count?"

He turned his fighter and broke off from my wing in a banking turn to head back toward Stonehenge, "Come on Strider 1. Some of our wingmates were damaged and shot down. We should go check on them."

I blinked again and felt the elated rush of victory and excitement curbed a little by my friend's odd behavior. For now, all I could do was follow him and assent to his suggestion. "Right... okay. I'll be right behind you."


	6. War and Peace

**_Stonehenge, Provisional Air Base_**

Following the battle around Stonehenge, our fighters in the LRSSG landed in a small air field which was attached to the Turret Network facilities. In the past it had been set up and used for transport planes carrying supplies and equipment to the main base. After the destruction of the Arsenal Bird, our forces needed some safe spots to regroup. Like the Osean ground troops, Strider and Cyclops Squadrons had been beat up and exhausted in the intense battle. Many of our F-15s had taken damage and a lot of our munitions had been expended as well. It was uncertain if several of our planes would be in good enough shape to even make the return trip back to North Point. A few of our pilots had been downed in the air battle and forced to eject. We were glad we hadn't suffered any human losses, but our material losses looked significant. Wiseman and Huxian's fighters had been severely damaged and it was unlikely they'd be flying again for a while either. It was too bad Avril was still back at the base in North Point. Now was a time when we could have really used her magic touch. I imagine if she took a look at the current state of Count and my planes, we'd still get an angry lecture from her about all the trouble we make.

By the time our exhausted squadrons had parked our planes, we all gathered in the central hangers for an impromptu celebration. In lieu of any alcohol or beer bottles, we used what we had on hand: a case of assorted soda cans. To my surprise, the other pilots gathered around Wiseman and I to cheer while showering us withhandshakes and pats on the back. Lanza wore a wide grin on his face, "I have to hand it to you two. That was pretty gutsy… taking on the Arsenal Bird by yourselves."

"Tell me about it," Wiseman chuckled as he pointed over toward his mangled Eagle nearby, "For a minute, things were looking pretty hairy and I thought we were goners."

"To be fair, it was kind of a team victory today," I admitted sheepishly. As much as I was enjoying the safe reunion of the squadron right now, being the center of attention for public praise was always something that made me feel a little awkward.

"Oh come on! Don't be so modest Trigger!" Huxian grinned brightly as she threw her arms around my neck and greeted me with a big hug and a kiss on the cheek, "You're our hero today."

"Oh… well maybe, I guess," I managed to stammer in surprise.

Being the only girl of our unit, of course Lin could get away with that. As my face grew red, several of our fellow pilots shared a hearty laugh at my expense, even Major Wiseman. Our commanding officer turned and glanced over only to see Count wearing a sour expression on his face. My wingmate was standing off to the sidelines wearing a frown with his arms crossed before Wiseman clapped him on the back, "Hey! Why the long face little chick? It's a party. What do you say?"

Count gave a half toast gesture with his soda can and muttered, "Congrats Trigger. Good work today."

I let go of Huxian and extended a hand to my friend but was surprised when he brushed it aside and turned to stalk off by himself, "Count? Hey... what's wrong?"

He turned slightly and shook his head, "I'm going to go find a medic around here. I think I need a little more oxygen or something."

That sounded like a lie and he seemed upset for some reason, but I didn't want to push him here either, "Count? Are you sure?"

"Yeah... get back to your party Trigger. You earned it," he said before walking off.

I shook my head quietly and couldn't help but feel a little troubled and upset myself. Sure, I knew Count could be a little arrogant and prickly at the best of times, but he was still someone I considered a friend and during a happy occassion like this, I didn't want to see him down. I felt Huxian take my arm and lead me back toward the other celebrating pilots, "Tom? Hey... is everything okay?"

"I don't know," I admitted before reluctantly going back to the festivities.

* * *

**_Erusean Air and Space Administration_**  
**_Experimental Testing Facility_**

Early evening had begun to set in over the air base and Princess Rosa headed outside for a short walk around the complex after dinner. As they were located in a remote area in the middle of nowhere, there wasn't any real danger to Rosa going outside and wandering around for a little bit. Everyone at the facility even seemed to understand that someone in her position could feel a little cooped up and stifled in such an environment. It was looking to be a beautiful evening and Rosa was grateful for it. The sun had already begun to set and the orange light over the salt flats gave way to cooler blues and purples in the sky. As she strolled outside a short distance, Rosa paused and quietly looked up to the stars. For once, this was a nice moment of peace and solitude. She could be away from the constant presence of prying eyes, of politicians, and the ever present war that was going on. For now, it was just her and the open skies. She reached up for a moment and spoke, "Can you hear me?"

As expected, there was no response. Even if her deceased father could hear her, she didn't think he'd actually be able to answer her. In a way, the silly childish part of her hoped that she could commune with him a moment and ask the late King of Erusea what she should do. After his recent death, he had left the responsibility of carrying on this war upon her shoulders, but after these last several days, she was beginning to have inklings of doubt that chipped away at her resolve to see this war through. She was beginning to question more, and that scared her a little. For all intents and purposes, she had the weight of the country upon her shoulders and she was just just a girl. The memories of her old life of being a regular carefree high school student now seemed so far away, like some distant fleeting dream. And here she was, isolated in several senses of the word. That was until she heard the familiar sound of a barking dog.

Rosa turned around and saw her yellow golden retriever named Prince scampering out of the facility for a little bit of a free run followed by Ionela's younger sister Alma. The ten year old girl had been so starstruck by getting to meet a real life princess in their first meeting and even more when Rosa had allowed the girl to help look after her pet dog while she was visiting. Rosa gave a warm smile and greeted the canine as it hurried over and came to cuddle for a minute with his master. She had owned the dog for several years already and she had no idea how ironic it was when her family named it Prince. When she was still a commoner, her uncle had been elevated to Erusean royalty and she had not been expecting that she would eventually be raised up in her social standing too. In a lonely trying time like this, having Prince around was a comfort and a blessing.

"I'm sorry Your Highness. I didn't mean to bother you. I didn't know you'd be out here," Alma said apologetically while coming over to fetch the dog.

Rosa affectionatly scratched the ears of the dog and gave it a kiss on the head before giving the girl a kind smile, "That's okay Alma, and please... you don't have to call me Your Highness. You know my friends call me Cossette."

"Oh... wow. You'd really let me be one of your friends?"

Rosa laughed gently, "Of course. Your sister is already my friend and so are you."

As Prince idly snuffled around the ground nearby and pawed at some dirt, Alma took a moment to look at the stars with the princess. "Is something wrong?"

Rosa glanced to the young girl and gave a little bit of a forced smile, "Not really. I just came out here to do some thinking about some things."

"About the war?" Alma asked innocently, "I mean... it's something Ionela's always concerned about, and it's why Grandfather is still flying around."

"You're worried about him, aren't you?" Rosa asked.

Alma nodded, "Sure. I don't like seeing him hurting and I think that really stresses my sister out too."

"I understand. And I'm sorry for that... for your grandfather and your sister," Rosa apologized, "I wish the war didn't affect them like that."

"Then why should we have a war right now?" Alma asked as she stroked the dog's fur, "You don't hate the Oseans, do you?"

Rosa balked a moment, "Well... no. I don't. I... it's complicated. Some days I find it a little hard to understand too."

Alma nodded, "Ionela says she thinks the war is probably because of a lot of greedy people and stupid politicians... err, no offense to you though."

"None taken," Rosa shrugged. In truth, she probably agreed with part of that sentiment. She knew there was a large pro-war faction of warhawks in the Erusean government and she also knew there were plenty of businesses and defense contractors making a major profit on the conflict. Initially, Rosa's belief in a clean war with a noble purpose felt so right. After all, wasn't the goal to assert Erusean sovereignty against the encoraching Osean Federation? She had thought so, until she realized how many people were dying now, and how scary the idea was of Dr. Schroeder's drones taking over the conduct of warfare.

Alma seemed to pick up on Rosa's discomfort and asked again, "You're sure you don't want me to take Prince back inside for you?"

Rosa gave a tired smile and shook her head in the twilight, "No, that's okay. Actually, I'd feel better if you stay a while longer."

* * *

**_Stonehenge, Provisional Osean Camp  
_**

Later that evening, I made my way outside the temporary barracks that had been set up and I walked toward the outer ring of the Stonehenge grounds. I walked up a set of stairs to the outer walls that circled the area and looked around. The sun had begun to set and it hung low over the horizon casting a warm fading orange light over the deserts. As darkness and peace set it over the sands, it was hard to imagine the ferocious battle that happened earlier today. In the far distance, the remains of destroyed vehicles from the ground battle sat derelict while the fallen UAV drones lay scattered across the grounds like a flock of giant dead birds. Even from my vantage point, I couldn't help but admire the silhouettes of the Stonehenge guns in the serene light, standing guard like ancient sentinels.

I continued to walk along the ring until I found the person I was looking for. I was told he went out this way to be alone and I planned to interrupt. When I neared, I saw Count sitting along the low wall looking glumly over the desert sands while smoking on a cigarette. He turned his head slightly when he saw me and looked back toward the sunset, "Well... if it isn't the Osean Big Shot."

"Nice to see you too," I answered with a frown before sitting down beside him on the wall.

"Did you need some air from the big party still going on?"

"Actually I came to check on my wingman here," I said.

Count scoffed bitterly, "Ah. How very gracious of you. I wonder if they'll bump the great Trigger up to wing commander for it."

"Will you cut that out?" I replied in annoyance, "Dude... what is your problem?"

"What is my problem?" Count laughed sarcastically, "What is my problem? You really have to ask? I've got a problem with you! You're my problem!"

I stared at him for a moment, "Me? What the hell are you talking about? If this is about the mission today..."

"It's not just about the mission today," Count growled, "I can't stand the fact that I'm busting my ass and doing my best to pull my own weight around here and everyone else just seems soooo in love with Trigger. The pilot with Three Strikes is so great! Oh, he can't do any wrong. Let's heap on the praise and make him a squadron leader while we're at it."

"I didn't ask to lead Strider Squadron," I answered defensively, "And I didn't choose to take on the Arsenal Bird today either. I just did what I was told, because it had to be done."

Count scoffed again and took a drag of his smoke, "You know, I should have seen it sooner. Even back with Spare Squadron, everyone just seemed to gravitate toward you and do what you said. It kinda pissed me off. I guess it still kinda does. Shit... I can't get any respect around here. Not from Wiseman. Not from Lin. And now you..."

"So that's it, huh? You're jealous of me?" I argued back while shaking my head, "I don't know about everything else, but if this is also about Huxian, then you shouldn't be mad at me. I mean, sure she's cute and all but I'm not interested in her like that."

"It's not just about that," Count snarled in frustration, "Listen, just shut up Trigger. Forget it, okay?"

We fell silent for a minute and calmed down before I spoke again, "Listen... I never meant to step on anyone's toes or pick any fights. I think you know that. Come on Count, we've worked together in past missions! I thought we were buddies here. Talk to me."

"Buddies? Hah..." Count scoffed again, "I'm sure it's only a matter of time before you forget about me in the middle of a fight. You and Strider Squadron are too busy wowing everyone and wrecking Erusea's shit. Me? I'm still stuck under Wiseman and treated like some dumb hatchling who doesn't know how to fly."

"Count, you know I don't think that about you," I said but he wouldn't hear it and only seemed to grow more irritated.

"Yeah, well... tell that to Huxian and the rest of our fighter wing. They seem to think I'm just some clown that managed to tag along and is probably trying to ride on your coat-tails."

I gave a long sigh, "So what do you want me to do?"

"Just don't do anything," Count grumbled, "I don't need your pity right now Trigger."

I grew a little more irritated at that and sat up straight, "So that's it? That's how you're going be? You're going to act like a little kid throwing a temper tantrum?"

"Yep. Looks like," Count answered petulantly.

I nodded, "Yeah... okay. Fine. Go ahead and be a self centered asshole. Go ahead and forget everything we talked about back in Zapland. Sit here and feel sorry for yourself. I never asked for any of this either and I'm honestly flying by the seat of my pants half the time. Once you decide to get your head out of your ass, then I hope we can talk because I'm trying to be your friend here and listen to you when no one else is."

Count turned slowly and looked at me before tossing his cigarette in the sand and blowing smoke in my face. He got up and walked away leaving me fuming by myself on the wall. As angry and annoyed as I was with him right now, I also felt bad. He was my comrade and my friend. I wanted to help him but I couldn't do anything about it if he was going to be this way right now. I gave a deep sigh and looked back out toward the skies wondering what new troubles lay ahead on the road to Farbanti. For now, that was all I could do.

* * *

**A/N:**  
**Just wanted to give a quick thank you to all of you who have been continuing to read and review this story. I've appreciated all your interesting and thoughtful comments, and I've also loved some of the other weird and semi-insane reviews people have left too. For those who have voiced a desire for more divergence and uniqueness in the battles, I hear you and understand what you're saying. I think that's a pretty fair suggestion so I'll work on improving on that front moving forward. If there's one thing I admire about you guys in the AC fandom, it's how passionate people are and how much they know their stuff.  
**

**And for the romance shippers out there, don't worry. I also have something in mind for Trigger later on. If you're curious about who I ship for this story, I'm just going to say right now that my OTP is Trigger x F-22A Raptor. ;)**


	7. Fog of War

_**North Point, IUN Air Base**_  
_**September 1, 2019 **_

Nearly two weeks had passed since the harrowing defense of Stonehenge and the destruction of one of the Arsenal Birds. From what I heard, allied forces had gone on the offensive and were in the process of pushing back the Eruseans across the continent. Both Strider and Cyclops Squadrons were returned to North Point via transport planes so that we could regroup after the last major battle. Even though it had been a major victory for us, we had taken a bit of a beating ourselves in that fight. Some of us were still feeling a little less enthusiastic, and chief among them was Count. Following our argument at Stonehenge, he remained sullen on the trip back to North Point and didn't seem too receptive to me either.

Upon returning to the air base, I spent some time trying to figure out how I could mend the rift with Count while also doing some research with Tabloid. I had asked him to look into Mr. X for me and we went over some bits of intelligence reports we had managed to scrape together. On that particular gloomy and rainy afternoon, I sat in my barracks room that I shared with Tabloid and we went over some recent findings.

"So I looked into some Erusean military history and came across some interesting stories. There was a famous enemy ace during the Continental War who went by the name of Yellow 13."

"That's a long time ago," I pointed out, "If he was still flying, then he'd be pretty old by now. You don't think it's him, do you?"

Tabloid grimaced, "I considered it, but it's probably unlikely. For one thing, Mr. X's livery is orange. And second, during an air battle near the end of the war, 13 was shot down with his squadron by the ISAF ace Mobius 1. Even if his body was never recovered, many believe he likely died. Hell Trigger, if you become the next Mobius 1, maybe Erusea will lay down their arms and give up this war too."

"If only," I muttered darkly, "I think the last thing I need right now is to be given another title and placed next to some of those legendary aces."

Tabloid paused a moment and gave a concerned look before handing me another folder, "Osean intel has also taken interest in another veteran pilot… some old colonel and nobleman by the name of Mihaly Shilage. They say he's involved with an experimental flight group running out of EASA. I guess they call themselves Sol Squadron."

"You think those are some of the guys we ran into at Yinshi?" I asked curiously, "The enemy fighters all looked to be flying custom Flankers."

Tabloid shrugged, "Who knows? What I can tell you is that this Mihaly guy has a long service record with a lot of air to air victories on record. It's possible he might be our guy."

I looked at Mihaly's photo and something about him just looked dangerous. Could he really be the mysterious Mister X? Was he the guy who I seemed bound to settle an outstanding grudge with? "Yeah… maybe. I'll give it some more thought Tabloid. Thanks."

"Any time, man. I know I can't do Full Band level intelligence gathering, but I figured I'd make myself useful while Avril and I were waiting here for you."

"Speaking of, did you have a nice few days by yourselves while we were away?"

Although I was feeling a little down myself, I figured I'd lighten the mood and tease my friend a little bit. I had a pretty strong suspicion he had been harboring a little bit of a crush on the Scrap Queen even when we were back at Zapland, though he didn't want to openly admit it to anyone either, much less her. Tabloid shifted around and caved in a little bit, "Oh well… yeah. Nothing against you and Count, but it was nice to have a little more one-on-one time with her over a few meals and work shifts.

"Ah… except you aren't going to make a move or say anything to her, are you?" I guessed.

Tabloid grimaced slightly and sighed, "I don't know Trigger. There's just a lot of things going on right now and the timing's not right either. We're always so busy wrenching on the fighter planes and then there's another issue too… something that might make things weird between her and I."

I gave a puzzled frown, "Uh… like what? Is she into girls or something? Cause I could possibly see that."

"What? No! No, you dumbass," Tabloid huffed, "I was having dinner with her one evening and she said some stuff in passing... about how she's got a thing against Belkans and doesn't trust them as far as she can spit."

"Why would that be a problem? Unless… oh…" I replied in surprise putting two and two together, "So that means you're…"

"Part Belkan? Yeah, it's not something I generally like advertising," Tabloid muttered evasively. Throughout history, the country of Belka had a very antagonistic relationship with Osea culminating in the terrible and bloody Belkan War. Although it was common in popular culture to demonize the Belkans and cast them as villains, it was still a bit of a stretch for most reasonable people to think that all Belkans were bad. Even in the Osean Federation, it wasn't uncommon to come across people with that heritage, though the stigma still remained and colored people's perceptions of them.

"Even worse timing," Tabloid continued, "Avril said she wanted to talk to me about something else tomorrow. She said it was going to be something important."

"Any idea what it's about?" I asked but Tabloid shook his head.

I nodded quietly and gave a sympathetic look, "I see. Hmm… that is a problem. I'll try and give that one some thought too."

Having been reassured I wasn't racist against the Belkans, Tabloid sat down on his bed, "If you don't mind my saying, I think you've got your fair share of issues right now too. Did something happen with Count at Stonehenge? You and him seem back to the way things were at the 444."

Since he had been open with me, I decided to return the gesture and I told Tabloid about our fight and about what Count said to me about being jealous. When I finished, Tabloid wrinkled his features thoughtfully. "Hmm… as much as I hate to see you guys at odds, that actually makes a lot of sense. I guess there is one thing you could try. Maybe you could speak to Major Wiseman? I'm sure he's had his fair share of dealing with pilots who are hotheads and showoffs. I'm sure it might do you some good too."

I mulled it over for short time before giving a resigned shrug, "Yeah, maybe you're right. Thanks Tabloid."

I stood up and headed for the door, "In the mean time, maybe we could do more digging into this Colonel Shilage guy later. I'll catch you at dinner, okay?"

Tabloid simply nodded and waved before he flopped back on his cot and listened to the steady pitter pattering of rain outside.

* * *

_**Erusean Air and Space Administration**_  
_**Experimental Testing Facility**_

On the other side of the continent, the weather was equally dark and dreary mirroring the moods of the Erusean on the grounds of the facility, especially that of Princess Rosa. She had been shocked on learning the news regarding the loss of the Arsenal Bird at Stonehenge. Even more, it looked like the Oseans and their Usean allies had launched a massive counterattack in earnest. It seemed every hour that passed, report after report came in of Erusean forces ceding more and more ground to the enemy across the continent. With her kingdom's forces on the verge of a general rout, she was beginning to feel pressure from Erusea's military leaders and political class demanding answers and reassurances that they could prevail. How was it that no more than a month ago, Erusea had secured such a powerful position on the continent, only to have lost it in the wake of just a few major defeats?

Rosa sat in a large office which had been provided for her and she spoke on the phone with one of her chief ministers back in Farbanti, trying to call him down, "Minister LaRoche, I understand your concern. I know I might be safer here, but I'd like to come back to Farbanti. I need to be there to reassure the people and the government."

"And what will you say Your Highness?" LaRoche asked in an almost accusatory tone, "You realize we've already lost our navy. We've lost an Arsenal Bird, and now the Oseans are pushing us back across all of Usea. How will you tell the people and our officials that they shouldn't worry?"

"I don't know yet!" Rosa snapped in frustration. She took a moment to consider the advanced super drones that Dr. Schroeder was working on, but even she felt uncomfortable with revealing that as a potential ace up Erusea's sleeve. Based on the way Minister LaRoche had been talking to her earlier in their phone call, she was getting the distinct feeling he was wondering why an eighteen year old girl was being trusted to lead a war effort such as this. The more she thought about it, the less sure she was that she wanted to even carry on with this conflict. Of course she still wanted to assert Erusea's political presence against the Osean Federation, but in the wake of some of these recent military disasters, she was starting to see just how many lives were being lost and how frightened and unstable that was making her country.

Once she calmed herself, she took a breath and decided to test an unconventional idea, "Perhaps we could consider negotiating some sort of terms with the Oseans?"

"Are you insane?" LaRoche bristled, "You want to surrender to them?"

"No. Not surrender," Rosa answered, "Perhaps keep some of our territorial gains while we have them and make it clear that if Osea wants to keep fighting, we would make it extremely costly to them."

LaRoche considered it for a moment and sounded like he was frowning, "I... don't think that's too unreasonable, but I doubt the rest of the government would agree to such an idea."

He was obviously talking about the large faction of political warhawks and corporate lobbyists who profited from the war and were all too happy to keep it going. "Then that is why I need to go back to Farbanti and try to convince them."

"I will await your arrival and your hopefully more concrete proposal," LaRoche replied before hanging up.

Rosa slammed her one phone down a little harder than she wanted, trying to curb her frustration and anxiety. She turned toward the large office window nearby and looked out over the airfield as it rained lightly. She didn't know what to do or what to say right now. All she knew was that she had to hold back her tears right now, to try and be strong and decisive for her country. She gave a deflated sigh and accessed the computer to pull up a video of one of her old speeches. She hoped she could maybe try to find something in it for her next speech, but she had a feeling it was going to be that much more difficult now. She rested her cheek against her wrist, and began to watch glumly in the dark room as she heard her own voice.

_"When I recall my homeland, my thoughts are filled with the sights and sounds of the city. But home means something different to each and every one of us. The Kingdom of Erusea is a land of diversity. Each region has its own unique and special culture..."_

* * *

Meanwhile, Mihaly Shilage busied himself in the hangers of the air base doing a check of his orange Su-30 Flanker. As he worked, he was approached by two younger men. They were pilots of the Voslagian Air Force who had been pressed into service to act as the Colonel's escort and his wingmen in the unit called Sol Squadron. As they neared, the blond haired man named Wit gave a nod, "Colonel? You called us?"

Mihaly finished his check and kept his back turned to the men, "Yes Wit. I'd like you and Seymour to ready your fighters for a sortie tomorrow."

The two younger men exchanged a puzzled look with each other before Seymour spoke, "Sir? What about the rest of the squadron? And you want to fly in this bad weather?"

"I only need two escorts for where I'm going," Mihaly replied slowly as he turned around to face the men.

Wit raised a curious eyebrow, "Oh? And where is that?"

Mihaly gave a slow wolfish grin, "Hunting."

* * *

_**North Point, IUN Air Base**_

I made my way across the base grounds toward the offices of the company commanders and gave a knock on the door of Major Wiseman. I heard him call and I entered to find him sitting behind a desk filling out some reports and requisition orders. He glanced up and gave a nod in greeting, "Captain Richter. This is a surprise."

"Yes. I'm sorry for bothering you sir," I apologized while giving a salute, "I was hoping you could spare just a few minutes to help me with an issue? It's regarding the squadron."

Wiseman stopped and set down his inkpen before looking up curiously, "All right. Shoot."

I briefly recounted my fight with Count back at Stonehenge and told him I was concerned about that rift affecting the morale and effectiveness of the team. When I finished, Wiseman crossed his arms and thought it over, "Hmm. Seems like a bit of a predicament, huh?"

"Yes sir. I can understand why Count is upset," I said, "I just need a way to try to get through to him and help him."

"Well... you're in the position to," Wiseman noted, "You're a squadron leader now, remember? You have the added burden to make sure your team can work together and get things done regardless of your differences and of what happens. This will be a little bit of a test for you as a new leader."

"Just like you're testing Count?" I asked.

Wiseman smiled, "I know his type. He's cocky and has a an overly high opinion of his abilities. He thinks that that the world revolves around him. Now, why do you think that is?"

I considered the question for a moment and then what I knew about Count, "Maybe he's just scared and overcompensating? Maybe he's scared of looking inferior to others because that's how he really feels?"

Wiseman laughed, "Maybe. I know that was certainly true of me when I was a fresh young nugget too. Maybe that's why I can be a little more hard on him at times. Maybe I don't want him to make the same mistakes I did."

"But maybe we need a different way to get through to him and help him," I said.

"And how do you plan to do that Squadron Leader?" Wiseman challenged me.

I balked, "Honestly? I'm not sure yet Major."

Wiseman nodded, "I can tell you one thing kid. It's a whole different ballgame when you go from one of the wingmen to the lead bird. You have to consider a lot more things about the mission and be more aware of the people under you. It's one thing proving to everyone you're the best, but it's a totally different thing to convince those same people to follow you into battle. I hope you'll be able think of something fast Trigger."

"Sir?"

Wiseman rose from his desk, "Before you came in, I was going to send out an announcement to the pilots to gather for a meeting. Seems like we have orders from HQ that came in earlier today. The initial briefing is in an hour so make the most of it."

A short time later, the LRSSG was gathered together in our designated meeting room of the base while Wiseman and Long Caster stood at the head of the room running the briefing. As they pulled up the Usean tactical map and updated it, Wiseman began to speak.

"The destruction of the Arsenal Bird at Stonehenge has significantly reduced the size of the Erusean air defense network. Osean forces have moved into areas where we've gained air superiority and are on track to take back over half of the Usean continent. Because their backs are up to the wall, Erusea looks to be making attempts to activate its ballistic missile base in the suburbs of Sierraplata. Over the past 72 hours, the area has been buzzing with activity and it looks like they're readying for the final stages of a launch."

Long Caster took over and changed the images to show us more detailed intel, "The missile silo is deep underground so if we're going to destroy it, we'll need a bomber to drop a deep penetration bomb on a precise spot. Unfortunately, the region is thick with cloud cover so it will be difficult for a normal bomber to hit its target accurately. Normally, we'd wait for the weather to clear, but with things as they are, we don't have the luxury of time on our side. That is why the LRSSG is going to act as the bomber's eyes and locate that silo. Your fighters will be outfitted with targeting pods instead of special weapons and we'll need you to fly at low altitude, visually ID the target, and lock on with your targeting pod. Once the bomber has the coordinates locked in, it will drop its payload. Note, you will need to keep a firm lock on your target and keep it centered otherwise the bombs may miss their mark. We assume there will be anti-aircraft units in the area so stay alert."

Wiseman nodded and interjected, Because of the losses sustained in our recent battle, Cyclops Squadron will be sitting this mission out. Trigger, it's up to you and your Striders to make this work. The squadron will sortie out tomorrow morning at 0700 so get some sleep and be prepared. Good luck."

As the briefing adjourned, I watched Count stalk off while Lanza, Skald, and Jaeger came over to offer me handshakes. At the start, the three pilots had all seemed a little skeptical of me leading them but over time they had gradually warmed up to me and seemed even a little enthusiastic for Strider to take the lead spot in the operation. Skald gave me a fist bump, "All right sir. We're ready to do this."

"You ready to go kick some major ass tomorrow boss?" Lanza added eagerly.

I gave a nod and a subdued smile, "Yeah. We've got this. Until then, I want you guys to do your prep and then rest up."

"What about you Trigger?" Jaeger asked curiously.

I gave a thoughtful look and glanced over to Wiseman, "I got an idea during the briefing and I need to make some extra preparations."

"You have to run it by Wiseman?" Skald asked, "Sounds big."

I clapped Skald's shoulder as I walked off to speak to Wiseman, "Trust me, I'm sure it'll shake things up one way or another."

* * *

Early the next morning, I came by Count's quarters and found him just starting to wake up. He was rolling over on his cot, half clothed and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He didn't seem to pay me much mind even as I opened the door and gave several loud knocks. "Yo! Rise and shine Morris! Time to get up!"

Count looked up with a mixture of surprise and annoyance, "Trigger? What the... what the hell are you doing here? It's five in the freaking morning. Get out!"

"Not until you get your ass out of bed and get dressed," I said walking in and opening the blinds of the room, "We've got another pre-flight mission brief in half an hour. Chop-chop!"

Count gave another annoyed growl and fumbled for his pants, "Trigger? Have you lost your mind? Cyclops Squadron isn't going on a sortie today, remember?"

"I know,"I said cheerfully as I moved toward the door, "Which is why you're not flying as a Cyclops today."

"What are you talking about?"

I crossed my arms and gave a grin, "The formation has changed. While Cyclops Squadron's planes are being replaced, we're going to be rotating personnel around. Today you're flying as a Strider."

Count blinked and raised an eyebrow incredulously, "You're shitting me, right? You're actually assigning me to your squadron?"

"As my number 2," I nodded, "You wanted to get out there and kick some ass like the Striders didn't you? Get off the leash and show your stuff? Well now's your chance. Come with me."

Count snorted and ran a hand through his mop of blond hair, "You really expect this is suddenly going to make everything okay and that I'll change my mind?"

"No. I just expect you to get out there and wreck Erusea's shit today," I said walking out and giving the door one more pound, "Suit up Strider 2, and don't be late to that meeting!"


	8. Grudge Match

_**Airspace around Sierraplata**_  
_**September 2, 2019**_

The skies were gray and cloudy as Strider Squadron made its approach toward the Erusean missile site in Sierraplata. It had been a long flight from North Point as our fighters went further west and we hoped that our efforts here would soften up the defenses enough for a continued Osean push toward Farbanti. As we neared our target, our squadron descended and used the cloud cover to mask our approach from Erusean anti air defenses below. We hoped that our new disguises would aid in fooling the enemy was well. Before leaving our base, Strider Squadron was given some Su-35s to fly. The Flankers had been captured from the enemy at least giving us the appearance of Eruseans from the distance. While the flight controls and handling were a little bit different from the aircraft I was normally used to, it was fun to at least get a feel for the enemy's capabilities.

"It's too bad Skald's not here today," Lanza said off-handedly as we cruised along. He was obviously commenting on the change in our squadron roster.

"Don't worry," I said, "He said he'd like to be flying with us today, but he didn't mind a chance to sleep in and get some extra rest either."

Lanza didn't sound totally convinced, "This is a serious mission here. Was it Wiseman who gave the Strider 2 spot to Count?"

"The formation changes every mission. You know that," Jaeger reminded him, "I'm sure there's a good reason for it."

"I'll believe it when I see it," Count muttered sourly, "I'm just glad he's not here to chew my ear off today."

"That's the spirit guys," I quipped sarcastically, "Listen. Count flying with us today is partially my decision too. He's a good pilot and I think we can use him here. I believe in him so I'm asking the rest of you to trust me here. Anyone have a problem with that?"

"No sir." / "We read you loud and clear Strider 1," Lanza and Jaeger answered.

Count began to speak, surprised I had come to his defense just now, "Trigger..."

"All right, cut the chatter Striders. You're nearing your target site," Long Caster interrupted us, "Erusea only has three IRBM silos in total. A number of these targets may be fake silos built to throw us off. So keep your eyes sharp."

"Understood Long Caster," I answered before radioing our high altitude bomber unit above, "Strider 1 to Vulture 1. We're commencing our run on the target sites now. Stand by for targeting data."

"Copy that," the bomber pilot answered from above, "If we've got the wing of the LRSSG that took down the Arsenal Bird, then I'm sure we can do this. Our bombs are ready so it's up to you to do the terminal guidance. Those enemy IRBMs are being aimed at Osean garrisons so our soldiers' lives are at stake. We can't fail here."

With that, Strider Squadron broke from the clouds and descended on low mountains and forest below. The scenery and the gray skies gave me flashbacks to Bulgurdarest but I swept them from my mind and focused back on the mission. "All right Striders. Let's do this fast."

It took the AA and SAM sites on the ground several moments to realize we were not Erusean Flankers before they started to open fire on us.

"Looks like they're giving us a warm welcome," Jager snorted, "Lanza and I will take the SAM sites."

I accelerated and armed my weapons, "Roger. We're making our run on the targets. Count?"

"Let me guess? Take out the AA guns and clear your path?" he sighed.

I shook my head and swooped down to strafe the AA guns, "No. Turn on your targeting pods. I'll cover your approach and remember to keep that targeting bracket centered!"

Count blinked in shock before fumbling at his controls and following suit. As the other Striders and I carried out airstrikes on the ground defenses, we watched as Count remained steady under the incoming fire and lined up the firing data for our bomber at the first site. Before we passed over the missile site, a bunker buster bomb dropped from the clouds above and hit the silo dead center erupting in a powerful shockwave and kicking up an enormous dirt cloud.

In spite of ourselves, we all gave a small cheer as Count smiled, "All right! That one was right on the money!"

"Target confirmed destroyed, but it looks like it must have been a fake silo," Long Caster chimed in.

By now, the other sites on our radar had begun to buzz with activity as the ground defenses started to throw more ordinance into the skies. Lanza grumbled, "Damn... looks like we pissed them off."

"Let's rinse and repeat. Count, you know what to do," I said as Strider Squadron roared over the valleys and approached the next site.

We came under heavier fire at the next location when Long Caster radioed us, "Striders, I have a flight of enemy bandits inbound. Looks like they scrambled some reinforcements."

"Understood," I answered as I checked my radar and saw a trio of F-16s approach at three o clock, "I'll hold off the fighters. Striders 3 and 4 stay on those ground units. Cover Count from that fire."

As he lined up another bead with his targeting sensors, Count couldn't help but smile a little to himself. He probably saw what I was doing. I was having Jaeger and Lanza cover him instead of letting them make fun of him. The fact that I assigned Count to targeting duty meant that I trusted him enough and his skill as a pilot to carry out this job. I was giving him his chance at glory, but I was making him earn it too."

I split the enemy Falcons' formation and went after one ascending with a steep banking turn. We rolled in the air and I followed it into some clouds before I braked and leveled off line up a kill-shot. The heatseeker streaked forward and hit the thruster of the enemy fighter mangling its rear and forcing the pilot to eject. "Strider 1, splash one."

Moments later, another rumble was heard from below as a second precision bomb was dropped and hit the next missile silo square on. As the shockwave subsided, Lanza couldn't help but pay Count a compliment, "Nice! We got the other one!"

"No luck. That one must have been a fake too," Long Caster informed us directing us to the third and final site he had marked.

"Okay Count. This is it. Don't miss," Jaeger said as he escorted Count along, "This one's for all the marbles."

I continued to dogfight the other two enemy Falcons chasing them away from the rest of the squadron and keeping them from attacking our bomber above. While I tailed a Falcon and sprayed some gunfire at it, I heard Count on the radio reply to Strider 3, "Relax old man, I've got this."

"Whatever happened to that old saying of respecting your elders?" Jaeger asked as he and Lanza swooped down on the incoming AA batteries.

Count began lining up his shot, "Right now, let's respect the younger guy with the better eyesight and the steadier hands."

Yup. Looked like Count was getting his confidence back after all. He made his approach, "Strider 2, locking on. Stand by bombardier."

He focused and kept the target centered as some stray enemy fire zipped by his Flanker. As the targeting data continued to lock, he gasped as a powerful crosswind rattled his aircraft and caused him to lurch off course. He gripped the stick and steadied his controls back just in time to feed it to our bomber. Moments later, the third bunker buster bomb hit its mark and surprised us all as a large explosion erupted and engulfed the nearby ground in a giant bright fireball. We could feel the heat and the shockwave from above and a huge crater was left in the ground where the silo once sat.

"Jackpot!" Count crowed victoriously as I saw the two Erusean fighters bug out in retreat.

"Three strikes you're out," I grinned as I rejoined the Striders and got in formation, "Long Caster?"

"That looks like you hit the real silo. We just registered a ballistic missile detonation."

Count laughed, "I hope you don't mind I served that one up well-done."

"In this case, I'll make an exception," Long caster chuckled, "Nice flying Strider 2."

"And nice work up there bomber team," I called to our allies in the clouds.

As we began to circle around the valley and saw the ground defenses go silent, Count spoke up and said to me, "You know... the sky feels a little more open and free today. As a Cyclops, I felt like a bird in a cage, but now that this mission is over, I guess it's back to being Wiseman's whipping boy. What a pain in the ass."

Just then, we heard Long Caster cut in over our comms and he sounded alarmed, "Strider Squadron! Hold on, we're picking up launch activity of another missile. It's coming from the dam!"

To our shock we looked below and noticed an installation that was built up around a water dam began to bubble before a huge missile erupted skyward from a hidden silo. Dam, or in this case "damn" was right! That was incredibly sneaky of the Eruseans hiding a missile site in that location. Our squadron split out and scrambled to change directions. We prepared to give chase to the missile that was several miles away in the opposite direction from our current flight path. "Okay Striders, let's go after that warhead and take it down!"

To our shock and horror, Strider Squadron was caught off guard again as we received a sudden distress call from our bomber above. The pilot of Vulture 1 radioed me frantically, "Strider Leader! We are under attack! Three new bandits coming fast and..."

The line went to static as we heard a boom and then saw flaming wreckage of the bomber fall from the clouds in a mess. The attack came from the other direction to split our attention from the missile launch. What the hell was going on? My question was answered when I saw three Erusean custom Flankers descend from the cloud cover. They were painted in black and orange with the insignia of Sol Squadron on their planes. At the lead of the enemy flight was the notorious Su-30 I had faced at Chopinburg and at Yinshi. It was none other than Mr. X himself.

"What the hell? Who are those guys?" Lanza shouted, "Are those experimental fighters?"

"They're the same clowns we faced at Yinshi!" Count answered with an edge in his voice, "Trigger, this is looking bad."

"He's right. Lanza and I are out of ammo too," Jaeger reported in dread.

I saw the enemy fighters bearing down on us while the ballistic missile was getting away in the distance. I had to make a snap call and I didn't have any time to waste. I decided to take a big chance and risk everything. "Count, go after that missile and shoot it down! You're the closest one to it!"

"What? Trigger, are you nuts? What about you?" he protested.

"I'll take on those fighters and keep them off you. Mr. X is going to be gunning for me," I said solemnly, "Jaeger. Lanza. You two get the hell out of here. We need at least some of our Striders to survive this mission."

"Sir, you can't be asking us to abandon you," Jaeger protested, "Not from a fight like this."

"I'm not asking you to. I'm telling you Strider 3. You all have your orders. Now do it!"

Count grimaced and voiced an anguished growl before taking off after the ballistic missile. I watched as Jaeger and Lanza peeled off and retreated the field before turning to meet the three fighters of Sol Squadron head on. I lowered my visor and armed my missiles with a gulp, "Okay... here goes nothing."

I accelerated and surprised the Eruseans by rolling and spinning right through their formation before pulling a spilt S and tailing one of the wingmen. The skies had seemed to grow darker and windier as I struggled to keep my flanker stable against their upgraded ones. As I tried to match speed and get a bead on my target, I had to keep an eye on Mr. X and his other wingman as they came around and tried to get radar locks on me. I could already hear my warning sirens going off as my target continued to evade and slip away from my own missile lock. It was clear these pilots of Sol Squadron were elite and they were definitely a cut above the normal Erusean pilots we faced.

An enemy missile zipped just wide of me as I lost my lock and got buzzed at close range by Mr. X himself. I gasped from the near midair collision as the two Sol wingmen regrouped and went after me too. I wasn't sure how long I was going to last against these three by myself, but I could only hope I could buy Count enough time to shoot down that missile. I juked left and made a hard cut right, diving into some clouds to try and buy myself some more time. To my dread, I suddenly heard a deadly calm voice come in over my radio. It sounded like that of an older man, but I didn't have time to pay too much attention, "Can you hear me, pilot with the Three Strikes? I've been looking for you."

"Who are you? How did you get on my frequency, you asshole?" I growled but I realized I had to stay calm and not let my fear take over. That's what got Brownie killed when she faced Mr. X.

He ignored my insult, "You've gained quite the reputation in the Erusean military. Our army hates you. Our pilots fear you. Even our Princess seeks to know you."

I was completely caught off guard by that last statement. Princess Rosa knew about me? She wanted to know who I was? I tried to keep from hyperventilating from fear, "What do you want from me?"

"The same as any ace pilot. I want a worthy opponent. Someone who can test my skills and push me to the limit," the man said calmly as he continued to dog me with his wingmen. They fired bursts of cannon fire, but I think they taunting me right now.

"And you think that's me?" I asked, hoping I could stall and keep him talking.

"I know that it's you. You were the only one to ever survive a duel with me at Yinshi and I want to see if it was a fluke. Don't you... Captain Thomas Richter?"

I gasped and pulled another evasive maneuver to avoid a missile, "Then I accept... Colonel Mihaly Shilage."

I took a wild guess but it must have been right. Mr. X began to laugh loudly before his radio line cut out and he went on the offensive again.

Several miles away, count pushed his engines and chased the missile as it continued to climb higher in the air. He looked over his shoulder watching the three on one fight and growled to himself feeling torn in what to do. He gripped his stick and armed his missiles before swooping under the rocket's tail and lining up a shot. He could hear Long Caster calling him, "Strider 2, you don't have a lot of time. That missile is going to reach critical altitude any minute!"

Just like he did on the missile silos, Count fought to keep this plane steady in its vertical ascent, staying just clear of the smoke plume to line up a shot. He pushed the trigger and fired a pair of missiles before pulling clear and diving away in the nick of time. The missiles struck the warhead just in the nick of time before it changed direction and the bottom erupted in flames causing a chain reaction. The warhead detonated in midair in a spectacular explosion which sent shockwaves for miles and lit up the sky like a flaming sun. Count gritted his teeth and struggled to maintain control as his Flanker was buffeted and sent into a momentary spin from the sheer force of the blast.

Once his vision cleared and the skies settled, Count gave a relieved sigh as he watched the vapor cloud of the destroyed warhead rain down. he heard Long caster in his ear, "Strider 2! Are you okay?"

"Just a little shaken up," Count nodded as he turned his plane back toward the rest of the fight, "That can wait though. I've still got some unfinished business."

* * *

Meanwhile, I wove through the midair melee and pulled a sharp aileron roll against Sol 3 firing a missile which knocked out his stabilizers and sent him spinning to the ground. I could see the pilot eject in time before Sol 2 came to chase me and get a missile lock. As we maneuvered against each other, we were both startled by the explosion of the warhead going off several miles away. I took a moment to grin to myself realizing Count must have succeeded before I took the chance to gain an advantage too. I hit the brake and reared up into a Pugachev cobra maneuver which caused the distracted Sol 2 to overshoot me completely. Before he knew what happened, I sent a missile right into his tailpipe too and blow his thrusters to pieces. The enemy fighter spiraled down in a trail of smoke as its pilot ejected leaving his aircraft to its fiery death.

"Strider 1, splash three," I smiled. After taking down Mihaly's wingmen in short order, this fight was looking a little more even now. I might even survive this fight after all! My moment of proud gloating was cut short as Mihaly buzzed me again and harried me with gunfire. Things were suddenly looking like the battle at Yinshi all over again as we darted in and out of the clouds playing a deadly game of peek-a-boo with each other. Every time I tried to make an aggressive move, he had a counter-move and kept me on the defensive. Our Flankers screamed through the skies in a deadly tango, cutting at sharp angles and trying to strike at each other. He led me into another shallow cloud bank and the moment I burst free, I looked around in surprise and couldn't see him. Whatever slippery move he just pulled, he blindsided me and came out of nowhere, hammering my fuselage with gunfire.

It raked my hull and I saw my sensors register moderate damage. Most alarming was some damage to my wing flaps which would hinder my maneuvering now. Mihaly radioed me again in his slow deep voice, a voice that sounded like the Grim Reaper itself, "An eye for an eye Three Strikes. Just like you wounded me before."

I gasped and tried to evade him as he relentlessly gave chase. I could feel the gnawing fear clawing at my heart and gripping it tightly. Was this how Brownie and Champ felt before they died at his hands? Why didn't Mihaly shoot already? Was he playing with me too? Was he messing with me? I couldn't tell.

Just then, a spray of gunfire came out of nowhere and hit Mihaly in the flank causing him to break off and veer away, "Hey! Leave my friend alone you asshole! That's my squadron leader!" **(*)**

I blinked in surprise as I saw Count suddenly appear and form up at my wing. He gave a thumbs up and I smiled, returning the gesture, "Count! You're here! I... thanks for saving me."

"Just repaying a debt Trigger. You were the one who kept me covered back there... and you were the one who trusted me today. Are you ready to trust me again now?"

"Like you even need to ask," I said with growing courage, "What do you say we give Mr. X the old Spare Squadron treatment and finish this mission already?"

Count smiled and nodded, "All right Trigger. Why don't you lead and I'll follow."

I heard Mihaly give a growl and angle back around to rejoin the fight, "Roger that Strider 2! Break!"

Count and I split off and went head to head with Mihaly. The three of us rolled and tumbled in another deadly dance only this time Count and I worked in perfect harmony with each other. Every time Mihaly would threaten a radar lock on one of us, he'd be shaken off by the other and I heard him growl again we went on the counterattack. He was good enough to duck and weave to evade two planes at once but I was sure it was taking a toll on him. He had hit several high G turns and stalls to keep up with us in our deadly aerial ballet. No doubt the troops on the ground in Sierraplata were being treated to a spectacular air show of three fighter aces today.

"You're using your friend as a crutch Three Strikes," Mihaly taunted me, "He's holding you back. Keeping you from glory and facing me alone."

"No. He's helping to protect me," I corrected my nemesis as we continued to maneuver against each other, "That's what wingmen do. I wouldn't expect a lone wolf like you to understand that."

Mihaly scoffed and began to grunt as the stress of the midair combat began to rack his body. He gritted his teeth in frustration, "No... not now... not now."

The old Erusean ace gasped for breath and wheezed while clutching at his chest. He struggled to focus through his pain before peeling away and throttling off into the dark clouds, "Another day Three Strikes. You and I will finish this later... just you and I."

I watched the enemy ace disappear on the horizon before Count radioed in, "Trigger? Hey! He's running scared! Now's our chance! Let's gun him down!"

I shook my head, "Negative Count. We burned a lot of fuel in that battle. If we go after him now, we won't make it back to our refueling point. Let's take it as a win and go home."

I almost expected to hear some more protest from him but instead he formed up along my wing as we set course for home, "Roger that... and Trigger? About everything you said earlier... thanks. It meant a lot to me."

"Don't mention it," I smiled as we began to cruise through the skies. For now, I was grateful that our mission had been a success and that none of my squadron was harmed. I was grateful to survive that run-in with Mr. X again, but I was the most glad that things were looking up for Count. I hoped we'd be able to finish patching things up between us when we got home, but for now we were content to enjoy this companionable silence and the peace that came with it.

* * *

**(*) Insert the song "Faceless Soldier" from the AC7 soundtrack here. I consider it the theme song of Spare Squadron but if I was directing this fic like a movie, this would be a perfect moment for its reprise.**


	9. Friends in Need

_**Erusean Royal Jet, **__**En route to Farbanti  
September 3, 2019  
**_

Evening had begun to set in over the skyline as Princess Rosa Cossette D'Elise took off on her royal jet back to the capital city of Farbanti. She had hated to leave Ionela and Alma but with the war raging and the political tension rising, he felt her place was back in the city to reassure her people that she would see them through. As the plane leveled off and reached cruising altitude, Rosa looked glumly out the window at the dying orange sun on the horizon and deep dark blue that was setting in around it. She couldn't help but wonder for a moment if there was any symbolism in that sight. The orange light of Erusea's hope and the sun of Sol Squadron were being enveloped by the blues of the ever expanding Osean Federation.

She took small comfort in the presence of her loyal dog Prince as he lay curled up in the seat next to her taking a nap. She reached down to pet his furry neck for a moment before turning back to her laptop that was open. She had been working on her next presentation to give to the government officials when she returned but she was still finding it to be a struggle. It seemed like no matter what she said or did, a large group of the populace would likely get upset so it was a no-win scenario. Was Erusea always this divided? Had she had her blinders on? Or was she just looking at things the wrong way… as a simple eighteen year old girl.

She typed and edited a few more lines of her policy proposal before she leaned back in her chair and felt like giving up. She blew aside a loose strand of her gold hair which fell over her face before she glanced down and caught sight of a thumb drive which she had been given before she left. Ionela had given it to her and said that she was passing it along to her from her grandfather Colonel Shilage. Ionela had said her grandfather had been cryptic and mentioned only that this data might be of some interest to the Princess.

Rosa had been curious about its contents and wondered what kind of secret intel it may have contained. Perhaps it was something about the drone program? Maybe he offered some kind of insight into dealing with the Osean Air Force? Or perhaps it was a special project he was involved in. She thought back to her conversation with Mihaly and gave a resolute nod before she slipped in the data stick and pulled up the contents on her computer. She eyed the single folder titled "Three Strikes" and clicked on it, curious to learn more about this pilot who had captured the imaginations of so many Eruseans in such a short time.

To her complete shock, Rosa saw a full personnel file of a pilot from the Osean Air Force. She saw a photo of a clean cut young man and she read his name. Thomas Richter. Age: Twenty-four. Call-sign: Trigger. Rank: Captain. He had short black hair and sky blue eyes. He didn't look to be an Adonis with big broad shoulders or a chiseled jaw, but he was still conventionally handsome in a plain 'everyman' sort of way. Having been a commoner herself at one point, Rosa could appreciate that average humble look about him and she found herself smiling a little as she continued to admire his features. If this was the face of the enemy Oseans, she found it wasn't a bad one at all. "So Three Strikes, you do have a name after all."

She continued to read and blinked when she saw that he had been transferred to a penal unit for the heinous crime of killing Osea's former President Harling. That couldn't be. It didn't make any sense. Why would he do such a thing? She read on to see he was later pardoned and now believed to be flying with some elite Osean fighter wing. If she had to guess, it must have been those pilots who had been winning strings of victories in northern Usea. Rosa leaned back in her chair and looked to his picture again. What an odd story this had become. Was he a rebel who really killed Harling or was he an Osean loyalist? She wasn't even sure how she felt about that. Technically, Harling and his federation should be Erusea's enemy. But as this war unfolded, Rosa had to admit that it was becoming harder and harder to tell exactly who was a friend and who was an enemy. She was sure when she returned to Farbanti, there would be plenty enough to go around among her own circle.

She gave a sigh and tapped the picture on the screen idly with her finger. Three Strikes. Trigger. Thomas. "I wonder who you are."

* * *

_**IUN Air Base, North Point**_

Elsewhere, Avril Mead and Huxian strolled down the main corridors of the air base and headed toward the rec lounge. Early evening was setting in and the two women were just returning from dinner. As they chatted, Huxian asked, "So do you still want to catch that action movie that's going to be playing later tonight? The rest of Cyclops Squadron is going to be there and they'll bring the popcorn."

"I think I'll pass. I had something else in mind tonight," Avril said thoughtfully, "I imagine you must either be really bored or really restless that the Strider team just saw some major action yesterday."

Huxian shrugged and answered honestly, "A little bit, I guess. I don't mind the extra rest though I'm surprised Trigger roped Count into flying with him. I wonder if he's trying to poach him from the squad."

"Oh, so are you telling me that now you don't want to see Count go? I thought you found him annoying," Avril teased gently.

"I do. But... I guess he does have some redeeming features," Huxian admitted, "He's confident. He's a pretty good pilot. And I guess if he cleaned up his scruff, he's not too bad looking either."

"See? He's not so bad," Avril smirked quietly and crossed her arms while they walked together.

Huxian picked up on it and elbowed her, "Hey what's with the look just now?"

"What look?"

"You know... that look!" Huxian huffed in exasperation, "And from the only other girl around here in the unit. I thought you're on my side."

"I am," Avril chuckled, "But I guess I have to stick up for my three boys. They're still my friends after all."

Huxian snorted in amusement, "Ah. The same friends who you're always calling dumbasses?"

"Because they are," Avril answered primly, "Trigger, Tabloid, and Count are all dumbasses in their own special unique ways."

"Girl, I think the fumes from the jet fuel have finally gone to your head," Huxian sighed as they entered the lounge and found Tabloid sitting on a couch reading a newspaper.

Huxian patted Avril on the shoulder and gave a wink before walking off, "I'll leave you two to it. Good luck!"

Avril gave her a dirty look and shook her head, wondering if she was going to add her fellow female to her list before turning to her other friend, "Hey Tabloid! What's going on?"

He looked up and put down the paper, "I dunno. I was just waiting. You said you wanted me to meet you here so that you could tell me something?"

Avril grinned and took away the paper before handing him his crutch, "Yes. I had a surprise for you."

"A surprise?"

She nodded, "Yeah. I know you've been kinda bummed about having the broken leg and not being able to fly with Trigger and Count so I figured I'd do the next best thing. You've been a big help to me on the ground working on the planes so I arranged for a short evening flight on a two-seater Hornet that I fixed up. I'll fly and you can ride shotgun."

Tabloid paused. He appreciated the nice gesture and was happy to go on a flight with Avril, except... "Thanks. That's really thoughtful. But are you sure?"

She grabbed his hand and pulled him along to the hangers, "Come on. You're not sitting here tonight and I won't take no for an answer."

She didn't get one either. A short while later, they suited up and walked into the hangers to climb into one of the trainer Hornet jets that was in reserve. As Avril did some pre-flight checks in the front cockpit, Tabloid gripped the rear handles and felt the familiar unease creep back into him. It was the same feelings of overwhelming anxiety he had felt when he was in Trigger's plane some time ago. He fought to steady his breathing and keep his hands from shaking as he whispered to himself, "Okay... not now Tabloid. Just breathe. This is for fun."

Avril closed the canopy over the cockpit and Tabloid could see some grounds crewmen preparing to guide the plane out toward the runways. As much as he tried to fight it, the debilitating fear gripped his heart and again and he started to sweat more.

Before Avril could fully power on the Hornet, Tabloid started to hyperventilate and he slapped his hand inside the canopy, "Avril, stop the plane. Please... just stop the plane."

She turned around in surprise and gave him a puzzled look, "Tabloid? Hey, what's wrong? Are you okay back there?"

"No. I... I'm sorry. I can't do this," he stammered as he fumbled to unfasten his harness, "Please... just let me out?"

"Steve?" Avril asked in concern, "What's happening?"

She could see the color had drained from his face. He looked like he was starting to sweat and that his hands were trembling. "Do you want me to call a medic?"

"No. I have to get out of here," Tabloid said with an anguished face, "I'm so sorry Avril... please."

She powered down the Hornet and opened the canopy, much to the surprise and confusion of the ground crew that was going to guide them out of the hanger. Avril called out to them, "We're scrubbing the flight! Get the ladder over here!"

They brought the ladder over and Avril watched as Tabloid pried himself free of the co-pilot seat and swung his broken leg back over the edge of the plane to disembark. While Avril normally wasn't one to get too emotional or show too much outward concern, she did reach out to try and figure out what was wrong with her friend, "Steven? What's going on? Come on, talk to me here."

"I'm sorry Avril," he said shaking his head again, "I... don't want you to see me like this. I appreciate what you're doing here... but I can't do this right now. I'm sorry."

She watched him clamber down the ladder still looking shaken and pale and she felt bad there was nothing left she could do right now. It was clear there was a problem and she knew she had to do something. For now, it was probably best to give Tabloid some space as he was feeling embarrassed. Her next move was going to be getting some help from Trigger and Count... that is, whenever they got back and sobered up from a night of carousing.

* * *

That evening, Strider Squadron was given a pass to leave the air base and hit the nearby town to blow off some steam. Following the harrowing air battle we had fought in Sierraplata, everyone was in the mood to celebrate the destruction of Erusea's ballistic missiles and the narrow routing of the infamous Sol Squadron. After giving a toast to the bomber crew that was lost in the mission, the rest of the evening was spent with lots of laughter and heavy drinking to celebrate the success. After witnessing Count's heroism in battle and hearing of his deeds, I noticed that Jaeger and Lanza seemed to lighten up on him and express a degree of admiration for what he did. I couldn't help but remind me of when I was first pressed into service with spare Squadron. Count had gotten in my face and told me that respect wasn't given, but it was earned. It seemed he had gotten his own taste of that now. In this case, he just needed a little reminder that he was a good pilot who was more than capable of contributing in battle.

By the time we returned to the base late that night, Strider Squadron was thoroughly trashed and glad that we didn't have to fly for the next 48 hours. Major Wiseman seemed understanding enough and decided if any fighters needed to be scrambled, then the rested Cyclops group would go on the sortie instead. Instead of heading back to my own room, Count asked me to come to his quarters to talk.

We both stumbled into some chairs by the window and opened it up to let in some of the cool autumn air from outside. I watched as Count reached in a desk drawer and pulled out a bottle of rum. I chuckled in amusement, "What's that? More contraband?"

Count unscrewed the top of the bottle and handed it to me to take the first swig, "Try a peace offering."

I took the bottle and took a swig before gasping for breath as the burn felt like a kick in the throat. "Whew! Was that stuff brewed in the bathtubs of the 444th?"

Count chuckled and took a swig before grimacing too, "Yeah… sorry for the cheap stuff here, but it's the best I could scrounge up on short notice."

We sat looking out the window quietly and taking another swig before I spoke, "I uh… I'm glad we're talking again. I'm sorry for being hard on you at Stonehenge. I know Wiseman was already busting your chops and I probably didn't help but…"

"No," Count sighed shaking his head, "You don't have to apologize Trigger. I should probably be the one saying I'm sorry to you… for getting jealous and being a pain in your ass. I didn't mean all that."

I grinned and took a swig, "Me neither… and I can't fault you for being jealous. I am pretty awesome after all."

Count snatched the bottle back and laughed while I continued, "But seriously, you helped me out too. You challenged me to think a little more like a squadron leader so thanks for that."

Count took a thoughtful sip of the liquor and nodded, "You really knew I could do all that stuff, didn't you? You actually let me take point after the way I had been acting?"

"Of course. I wouldn't have asked you to do what you did if I knew you couldn't do it. You just had to believe you could too."

He handed me the bottle back and I took a slug, "I probably owe you for coming to save me against Mihaly. I wasn't sure I was going to make it. The guy is good… like scary good."

"Well there's a simple reason I came back for you," Count said with a quiet smile, "I wanted to make it back home from that fight."

"What are you talking about?"

He took a swig, "Haven't you forgotten our motto? Stick with Trigger and you'll make it."

I couldn't help but break out into a stupid drunken grin at hearing that, "Geez. You guys make it sound like I'm some kind of good luck charm or something."

"Well, why not?" he teased gently, "You fly like a man possessed out there. You make the Eruseans run scared. And you get all the ladies too."

I laughed, "Come on man, if you're talking about Huxian I told you I wouldn't go there."

"Why not? Is she not good enough, or hot enough for you?" Count prodded.

I shook my head and smiled, "No. I wouldn't want to step into my buddy's territory. You've clearly got a thing for her and I wouldn't disrespect that."

"Oh… well, yeah… I guess," Count muttered sheepishly, "Seriously? You'd do that for me?"

I took the bottle and sipped it with a wink, "I'm your wingman aren't I? I'll even talk you up so she'll be more willing to give you a shot."

"You'd be willing to pass that up for me? Count snorted in amusement, "Shoot, you must be crazy."

"Nonsense. I've already got a girl who's dying to see me," I half joked as I pulled out the folded picture of Princess Rosa that I still kept in my uniform pocket.

"Really?" Count laughed, "Damn Trigger. I already knew you were crazy. I just didn't think you were delusional too."

"Don't listen to him Princess," I joked giving the picture a kiss and folding it back into my pocket, "He's just jealous you're not acting as his good luck charm to keep him safe in battle."

"Whatever Trigger. You really must be drunk right now," Count snorted, "But do me a favor? Whenever you decide to sober up, just be sure to put in your mission report just how much ass I kicked while off the company commander's leash, okay?" Count said.

"Roger that. And I'll be sure to include all the shit you were talking about Wiseman too," I replied with a grin.

The two of us looked at each other for a long moment before breaking out into a fit of laughter. It wasn't very often that we got to drop our guards and express ourselves like that. For that moment, I was just glad to have my wingman back, and even gladder to have my friend again.


	10. Opportunity Cost

_**Erusean Capitol Building, Farbanti City**_  
_**September 15, 2019**_

There was a lot of noise and restlessness in the main chambers of the Parliament building as the officials of the Erusean government gathered together that morning. Although the kingdom had reverted back to a monarchy, it still retained some vestiges of its republic and allowed the elected officials some limited power to operate in an advise and consent sort of role to the monarchs. As Rosa waited on the central podium to give her address, she could feel the tension in the air and all the questions that were likely swirling around. Right now, she just had to believe that what she was doing would be the right course of action for her and country's future... if there was to be any future in the wake of the encroaching Oseans. Rosa had worn her best white dress and made sure that she looked immaculate as this could very well be one of the most important speeches she had given to date.

Once the large circular room had settled, Rosa took a deep breath and spoke, "Members of the Parliament... my fellow Eruseans, I come before you today to speak on a matter of great urgency, on an issue that impacts the future of our country. I'm here to speak of the war we are engaged in with the Osean Federation. Our purpose in this war has been to assert Erusean soverignty and restore a hint of our past glory. In a sense, I believe we've done that, and despite what some may think, it is a cause I still believe in. If there's one thing I've come to understand and to feel deeply in my heart, it is the suffering and the human cost of this war, for both our people and those of Osea. That is why I'm proposing that we find a way to convince Osea to negotiate a truce."

There were audible gasps and murmurs of discontent from many politicians there. Already Rosa could tell she had upset the large faction of the pro-war Radicals of Erusea's left wing party, the same ones who had originally convinced her and her father to champion the war effort. There seemed to be much less resistance from Erusea's Conservative party but even they seemed a bit muted in the wake of the Radicals' simmering reactions. She ignored the noise and continued.

"The Osean Federation has pushed our military forces back across the continent over the last month, but even now, we retain greater territory and influence than we had when we started the war. Most importantly, we still control the International Space Elevator and the Arsenal Bird which guards it. I wish to negotiate a treaty with Osea and retain our current holdings, but to let them know if they wish to continue with this war, we will make it extremely costly for them. It's my hope that it doesn't come to that. Enough blood has been spilled on both sides and I believe we can still achieve our war aims without any more needless destruction. I ask the Parliament to consider my proposal today and do what's right for the kingdom. It's my hope that you join me and help in making a better future, for Erusea and for all of us. Thank you."

Again there was a mixed chorus of voices from the officials, some positive, others scathing, and some confused. Many of the Radicals were already incensed and making a ruckus on the floor, "What's happened to the Princess? She sounds like one of those spineless Conservatives now! This is treason! She doesn't want to make peace. She's asking us to surrender to the Oseans! She's selling us out!"

As Princess Rosa left the podium and made her way out of the room, she did her best to take a deep breath and steel herself for whatever strife and unrest was certainly headed her way.

* * *

_**Erusean Air and Space Administration**_  
_**Experimental Testing Facility**_

The clatter of weight-lifting equipment echoed in the facility's gym as Colonel Mihaly A. Shilage finished his set and took a short break from his workout. The older man sat back from the butterfly machine and gave a satisfied nod to himself. In spite of his age, his body had managed to retain a fair degree of lean muscle and it was impressive just how much weight he could still put up. He heard the door of the room open and looked up to greet his grand daughter Ionela who came carrying a towel and a large water bottle. It was for her that the old fighter pilot allowed a gentle smile to cross his features when she neared. "I thought you might need these Grandfather."

He took the towel and the water gratefully, "Bless you child. Thank you."

Ionela watched him for a moment and sat down on a bench nearby, "You're lifting heavier weights today."

"I don't want to lose my edge so I'm pushing myself a little," he admitted.

She grimaced, "Just like you're pushing yourself in this battle with Three Strikes? You had another episode on your last flight... didn't you?"

Mihaly's expression darkened, "I was weak Ionela. I let that Osean ace slip away from me. I can't let it happen again."

His grandaughter frowned, "Why does it matter? Sure this Three Strikes person might be dangerous, but he's just one man. There must be younger Erusean pilots out there who can stop him. Please Grandfather. I'm begging you. Stop this. Stop flying. If not for me, then for Alma. Don't you love us?"

"Of course I do," Mihaly said looking almost apologetic, "You know that. But if you asked me to stop flying now, you realize you would do something far worse to me. Without that purpose, without that reason, I would be as good as dead."

"Then find a new one!" Ionela exclaimed with an edge of heat in her voice. She paused and took a breath to calm herself, not wanting to show too much disrespect to Mihaly. She spoke more gently and took his hand, "Grandfather... the wars are over. Our world is changing. The old Erusea is gone. Grandmother is gone. Please..."

"I'm sorry Ionela, but you couldn't understand," Mihlay sighed giving her hand a gentle squeeze. At that moment, the door opened again and a new figure had entered the room. Dr. Schroeder surveyed the gym and walked over giving Ionela a brisk clinical nod before turning to Mihaly, "Colonel. There you are. I've been looking for you."

Mihaly regarded him carefully, "I assume you're here about that special experiment you were planning to run?"

Schroeder casually put his hands in his pockets, "Yes. Once your new flightsuit is finished, I'd like to take some more readings from you. We're nearing completion of the drone project and we need just a little more data from you."

"And you say this suit will help to sustain me longer in flight? To improve my physical performance as well?" Mihaly asked.

"That's the working theory anyway," Schroeder shrugged.

Ionela rose to her feet angrily and berated Schroeder, "Doctor! How could you? How much longer are you going to subject Grandfather to this... torture? Aren't your little mechanical toys enough? Aren't you done already?"

"Ionela..." Mihaly began but the girl stormed off and slammed the door behind her as she exited.

"Shame on you! On all of you!"

The doctor simply said nothing and wore a stone cold expression as he watched her go. Mihaly sighed, "I'm sorry about that Doctor. She's young, stubborn, and spirited... just like her mother was."

Schroeder simply gave another nod and didn't seem at all bothered or offended in the slightest. He turned and departed the room, "We can expect to begin testing in a few days from now Colonel. I'll be looking forward to it."

Mihaly watched him go before he slipped his arms back into the butterfly machine and began to lift again.

* * *

**_IUN Air Base, North Point_**

Early that afternoon, I made my way through the busy messhall avoiding other airmen and base personnel until finally reaching my designated table. I set my lunch tray down and greeted Count and Avril who were already waiting for me there. Count acknowledged me with a little nod before having some mashed potatoes and taking a playful jab, "Well... nice of you to finally join us Tom. We thought you got buried under that backlog of paperwork and requisition orders."

Count wasn't entirely joking about that part. What a lot of people don't realize is that when we military officers aren't dogfighting in jet planes or storming beaches with assault rifles, we do our fair share of paper pushing and dealing with bureaucratic red tape. As a squadron commander, that paperwork only seemed to double at times.

"Guilty as charged," I shrugged with a cheerful smile before I starting poking at my mac and cheese, "So now that I'm here, I understand you wanted to talk to Count and I about something, right Avril? What's up?"

The Scrap Queen grimaced slightly and furrowed her brow, "Well... I guess it's kind of a touchy subject. It has to do with Tabloid."

Count and I exchanged a curious glance and looked back to her, "What's wrong? What happened?"

Avril set down her fork and debated with herself before giving a sigh, "Something happened after you and Count came back from the mission in Sierraplata a couple weeks ago."

She went on to relate the incident of Tabloid's odd panic attack when she offered to take him up on a joyride in the refurbished Hornet. She admitted she felt a little guilty about not saying something sooner because she didn't know how to bring it up to us until now. Luckily, Tabloid had seemed fine ever since he had kept away from the cockpit of any other aircraft. I chewed my bottom lip, "Hmm... you don't suppose this has anything to do with his crash back in Bulgurdarest, do you?"

Count shrugged, "I couldn't blame him for getting panic attacks. It's kind of a miracle he even survived that crash at all."

"So... like, what do you pilots do when you get PTSD? Avril asked, "I'm kind of concerned because I think we should do something."

Count and I exchanged another uneasy look until he spoke, "Well... Trigger and I aren't psychologists or anything, but we do know this sort of thing can potentially kill a pilot's career unless you get help and find a way to overcome it."

I said quietly and considered it for a moment. In a way, many combat pilots often had to deal with some sort of trauma at some point. We had all come out of the 444th and that was mental hell in and of itself. Even to this day, the memories of my first run-in with the Arsenal Bird at Chopinburg and the death of several of my squadmates had left their scars. I had felt anguish and guilt when President Harling died in our failed rescue attempt, and even now I still felt a little cagey when there were UAV drones buzzing around me in battle. My duel with Mihaly a few weeks back probably didn't help matters either and I began to wonder how I was still flying. If anything, I should be way more screwed up in the head than Tabloid was. Still, he was my friend and I felt bad. Avril was right after all. We had to help him. We just had to figure out a way how.

"We should probably approach him at some point and ask him to get help," I said finally.

Avril furrowed her brow to herself, "Easier said than done. I think he's ashamed of it and doesn't want to be more of a burden. I get the feeling he feels guilty enough that he can't help you and Count on the battlefield."

"Believe me, if there's any good that comes from this, I'm glad Tabloid doesn't have to suffer on the battlefield right now," Count said. In his own acerbic way, even Count was showing that he cared about his friend and I couldn't fault him for that.

"I have to admit Avril," I finally said, "This is a different side of you I haven't seen much. The more concerned and compassionate side."

"Yeah... well, don't get too used to it," she huffed putting on her tough girl persona again before snatching the dessert brownie from my tray.

"Hey! What the heck? I already honored my deal from that pool game... about giving you dessert for a week some time ago?"

Avril pointed a fork at me, "Well I'm reinstating the tax right now. Believe it or not, I get a little worried when you and Count go off on those crazy missions and it doesn't help that you bring your planes back half wrecked. Do you know how much trouble you guys make for me?"

Count simply shrugged and laughed, "Well Tom, no point arguing. She's got our number there."

Before I could protest any further, Tabloid and Huxian came over to join us at our lunch table, completely unaware of the conversation we had been having. Tabloid sat down beside me and gave a friendly smile, "Hey guys. What's new? Lin and I were in the chow line and you guys looked like you were having a pretty serious talk. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah... everything's fine buddy," Count said trying to deflect the question before an announcement came in over the PA, "Pilots of Strider and Cyclops Squadrons. Please report to HQ, ASAP."

"Okay... maybe not everything is fine," Huxian sighed in dismay as she had to get up and leave her lunch.

She followed Count and I as we left the table and hurried off to report to HQ. No doubt new orders had just come in and the Erusean forces were on the move again. As we left, Avril took Count's dessert too and handed it to Tabloid, "Brownie?"

* * *

A short time later, the pilots of the LRSSG gathered together at the HQ building for our newest mission briefing. Long Caster and Major Wiseman were already there and waited until we were all seated before speaking. "With the loss of an Arsenal Bird followed by the destruction of their ballistic missile base, Erusea is becoming increasingly desperate. This will be the perfect opportunity for the Osean Army to set up for its final push toward the enemy capital of Farbanti. Our unit's mission is now entering its final phase. Our objective will be to attack and seize the Erusean air force base in Cape Rainy located in northern Erusea. This important location will allow us a forward operating base in which we can strike at Farbanti from the air. Under the cover of night, we will have a fighter squadron invade from the valley to the south and mount an air assault upon the area. Erusea's observation field has eyes on the skies above the valley so your altitude will have to be restricted on your approach."

"Looks like a pretty narrow valley there," Count muttered to me quietly, "I could've sworn I've seen something similar to that in a sci-fi movie back home."

Huxian gave him a little elbow in the side to quiet him before turning to me, "Trigger? Hey, do you see something?"

I furrowed my brow and studied the 3D terrain of the area, "Sorry. I was just wondering if there were any tunnels we could use to cut through the cliffs and surprise the enemy with."

"Like you did at Snider's top?" Count asked, "The Eruseans wouldn't be that dumb... would they?"

Meanwhile, Long Caster took over and continued the briefing as he brought up some new graphics on the board, "Your job will be to take out the enemy air defenses and provide cover for our support units which will follow behind. There will be a unit of helicopters carrying marines and once they land, they will capture the base. A mixed unit of fighters from Strider and Cyclops Squadrons will be assigned to lead the way so it's up to you to blaze the trail for our troops. If we can take control of Cape Rainy, we will be one step closer toward capturing Farbanti and ending this war for good. Good luck pilots."

We all rose and got our written instructions before Wiseman came over and took my shoulder, "Captain, my plane is still under repair so I'll need you to head up one more mission. Do you think you're up to it?"

"Yes sir," I nodded, "We won't let you down."

Wiseman nodded and began to head off, "All right, and remember Trigger. You'll be commanding some of my pilots too. Make sure you bring them all home safely."

"Understood Major."

"So... who's on your short-list, sir?" Huxian asked curiously as the other pilots talked among each other or asked questions of Long Caster.

I scratched my chin thoughtfully,"Hmm. I was thinking of giving Lanza and Jaeger the day off. I'll double up with Skald. As for the Cyclops, how about you two pair up too?"

Huxian was caught off guard and balked a moment at the wording, "I'm sorry?"

"Yeah. You and Count will fly as the two Cyclops units in this op," I said innocently, "What did you think I meant?"

"Oh... right," Huxian said in slight embarrassment, "Never mind. I should probably get going and get ready for the mission later."

I watched her go and gave a wave while wearing a straight face. When she departed, I turned to face Count who was still looking at me and trying to read my expression. "Trigger... if I didn't know any better, I'd almost say you did all that on purpose."

I simply gave a sly wink and clapped his shoulder before walking off with a laugh, "I have no idea what you're talking about Cyclops 2, but if you want to thank me, then you're welcome."

* * *

**A/N:**  
**Special thanks to Swift Bolt99 for bringing something to my attention. For this story, I'm going to be making a slight retcon and aging Princess Rosa up a couple years to about age twenty. After all, this story is already kinda AU anyway and this is fanfiction so I think we're allowed to take some creative liberties, right?**


	11. Pizza Party

_**Approach to Cape Rainy, Erusea**_  
_**September 16, 2019**_

A thin mist hung over the region as our assault team descended from the darkness of the night skies. The light of the full moon above had been partially obscured by cloud cover which cast lines of long shadows over the area around Cape Rainy. Our four Flankers reduced speed and altitude so that the Osean chopper unit in the distance could catch up a little bit. Huxian took a look around the inlet to the valley and gave a low whistle to herself, "I don't know about you guys, but it looks a little creepy out here tonight, don't you think?"

"Then the name of Operation Werewolf is pretty fitting," Count added with a small grin, "Awooooo."

I quietly shook my head to myself and flipped a few switches on my cockpit console before I heard the voice of Long Caster on my radio, "Strider 1, you are now coming up on Waypoint 1. No weapons until your group reaches the objective. All aircraft, prepare to reduce altitude below 600 meters. You will be under that flight ceiling until you reach the end of the trench."

"Wilco," I answered, "All right everyone. You heard Long Caster. Keep your eyes peeled when we enter the trench. It's going to be dark and we can run out of room really fast."

"Okay then," Huxian answered nervously, "No pressure. Just thread the needle, huh?"

Count, Huxian, and Skald formed up in a close order line behind me as I angled in to the large dark entrance to the canyon trench. I squinted in the darkness and kept my hand steady on the joystick as our squadron roared around the first two wide turns in the valley like race-cars hugging the edge of a track wall. As I made another turn down a more narrow pass, I could only wonder if the others' hearts were beating as fast. At least the chopper unit behind us were much slower and more forgiving with their controls. At the very least, they could stop on a dime and go straight vertical, whereas if we fighters messed up, we'd plow facefirst into the cliffs and probably die right there.

We wove around another bend when I heard Skald call out, "Hey! Heads up gang. Search lights up ahead!"

In the near distance, we could see intermittent beams of light streaming through the dark canyon at odd angles. Most likely they had been set up as surveillance posts or as means to force invaders above the 600 meter threshold. As if negotiating the narrow passes of the rocky canyon weren't enough, now we had to contend with these moving tripwires as well.

"Those Eruseans must be paranoid," Huxian muttered, "Who's the nimrod who set these defenses up?"

"I don't think I need to tell you guys, but stay out their sights," Long Caster cut in, "We need to maintain the element of surprise for as long as we can."

Our squadron soared forward and followed my lead as I rolled and tumbled around the first string of searchlights while they swept by. Once we cleared the first batch, another voice spoke up on our radios. It belonged to the lead pilot of our chopper unit which was following some ways behind. "Strider 1, this is Basilisk 1. We are en route and preparing to follow your current course through the valley. You're sure you'll be able to secure the LZ quickly?"

"We'll get you down safe," Skald replied calmly, "I'm just worried if you'll have enough troops to land. Are you guys ready?"

Basilisk 1 gave a grim chuckle, "Well, everyone here's already signed their wills."

"Uh... that's kinda dark. Don't you think?" Count asked as we continued to navigate through the dark corridors.

"Heh... I never was good at jokes," Basilisk 1 admitted as Long Caster interjected again.

"Strider 1, you're approaching Waypoint 2. Be advised the valley gets even narrower here so be careful."

Our squadron continued to roar ahead in a tight formation, only breaking ranks to dodge some of the spotlights that continued to sweep across the jagged stony walls of the trench. As I negotiated another tight turn, I reminded myself that I had already engaged Mihaly in a dogfight in the narrow straits of Yinshi Valley. This should be a piece of cake by comparison, right? I was pulled from my thoughts as I heard Count try to offer some levity by sounding like a whiny child in the backseat of a car.

"This is boring. Are we there yet?"

"Really? You're going to pull that now?" Huxian sighed as she flew near him, "How old are we again?"

I kept my voice level and concentrated on the path ahead, "Hey, settle down you two. Don't make me have to come back there."

Skald seemed to agree and tried to be serious, "Let's just worry about staying sharp here. We're going to need everybody when we attack Farbanti, right?"

As we rounded another narrow turn, we were caught off guard when we ran into a field of multiple intersecting searchlights. We barely had any time to react and we all broke to make our own sudden evasive maneuvers. Despite our best efforts, one of the searchlights tagged the tail end of Huxian's Flanker and an alarm siren was raised. Several of the lights went red and began trying to triangulate on us as we rushed past.

"Shit! They got me" Huxian exclaimed in a mixture of frustration and embarrassment, "I'm sorry guys. I blew it."

"Not as sorry as we're going to be," Skald pointed out as a flight of Erusean fighters approached from overhead. The enemy patrols that had been called over launched a few missiles at the top of the canyon causing large boulders and rocks to start falling down around us. Our fighter squadron veered and cut back and forth in sharp maneuvers through the chaos as we weathered another missile volley that rained down another chaotic cloud of debris. I winced as I heard some large rocks bang off my fuselage and I prayed it hadn't caused any kind of significant damage to my aircraft.

"Damn! We're sitting ducks here!" Huxian called in fear as she juked clear of a falling rock formation from behind.

Skald looked ahead and radioed me, "Strider 1, what are they doing?"

I looked ahead toward the horizon line in the near distance and saw that the enemy fighters now moved to cut us off further ahead in the valley. I frowned in confusion as I confirmed the sight of the bandits on my radar continuing to move ahead of us. I mused, "That's odd... why aren't they hitting us from above? Unless..."

I felt my stomach drop as my fears were confirmed and I saw some smoke trails in the skies from their missiles. The enemy missiles hit the tops of the narrow straits up ahead while also causing several rocky overpasses to collapse down in a blinding cloud of smoke and rubble. They'd let the canyon take care of us instead of doing the job themselves. I pulled a sharp maneuver and angled my Flanker in a different direction. If we followed this current path, the enemy would expecting us and focusing all their attention on it. "Follow me everyone."

"Trigger? What the hell?" Count exclaimed as the rest of the Squadron panicked and started to follow me, "Where are you going?"

"Taking an alternate route," I answered quickly, "Long Caster? We're near Waypont 3, right?"

"Affirmative," he replied.

I nodded and angled toward another narrow strait, "Perfect. Before we left, I studied the layout of the trench and noticed there is another branching path leading toward the enemy base. It's more narrow and has some overhangs so that tunnel might shield us a little from air attack."

Huxian gave another gasp, "You're serious? We make one false move in this trench and we're toast."

"If we keep going on the other path, we'll be guaranteed toast," I replied with a tense edge in my voice, "Let's go!"

We rocketed into the narrow half-tunnel and wound our way through the snaking pathway bypassing the rest of the search-lights and the defenses that were now being brought to plug up the main approach. I was sure that we were not going to be facing more opposition when we arrived at the objective so that meant we'd have to fight even harder to quickly subdue the base defenses. During war, original plans rarely survived first contact with the enemy so I had to hope that this improvised approach would be enough to see us through. I also hoped the Osean choppers would also be able to follow us and keep up. Right now, it was all going to be improvisation.

"I guess I was wrong," Count muttered as he gritted his teeth and concentrated while flying, "The Eruseans must have thought no one would be crazy enough to take this path."

"Which says something about us," Huxian quipped, "And through a tunnel of all things. I hate enclosed spaces!"

Skald checked his sensors and radioed from the rear of the formation, "Don't worry. Only a little further left to go. Strider 1, I don't hear any more sirens or missiles. Do you think they lost sight of us?"

"Only one way to find out," I answered as we reached the end of the narrow winding strait and throttled up to attack speed.

Sure enough, we had circumvented the rest of the Erusean surveillance units and emerged from the cliffs just a few miles east of the original path we had been originally told to take. We had caught the Eruseans somewhat off guard and we now had the speed and the room to maneuver for combat. the Cape Rainy air base lay below and it looked like it was still in a relative state of sleepy peace in the darkness. The pale moonlight was now reflecting off the waters of the coastline casting an eerie light over the misty area.

"Long Caster! We have a visual on the enemy base!" I reported, "Requesting clearance to engage the enemy."

Our AWACS controller called back, "Roger Strider 1. Commence the attack. Let's give the enemy their wakeup call. I've already routed allied choppers through your new flight path so make it quick pilots. The marines will be ready to hit the ground soon."

"Roger that Long Caster. We'll serve up some hot breakfast in bed for the Eruseans," Huxian smirked as she angled low and began to strafe some of the planes parked on the apron of the enemy base. The helpless aircraft were shredded and burst into flames while the rest of the enemy base scrambled to react. A few small armored vehicles began to drive out of the hangers while a couple of the base's AA guns sent up bright flares and sprays of gunfire. Our fighters roared by overhead and hammered the enemy ground positions with missiles before circling back around for another pass. To the startled Eruseans on the ground, we must have looked like giant winged bats or phantoms diving from the dark skies to rain destruction down on them.

As Count strafed some enemy APCs and tore them apart with gunfire, he took his eyes off of a SAM site situated near the edge of the coastline. Before it could train its launchers on him, Huxian swept by and destroyed it with a well placed missile. She gave a smug look toward his aircraft and radioed to him, "You're welcome for saving your life Eugene."

"Why Lin, I didn't know you cared," he teased back while in the heat of the battle.

No sooner had we cleared the grounds on eastern edge of the runways, our helicopter units emerged from the cliff tunnel and made quick landings on the ground to deposit their squads of marines. Over the radio, we could hear the marines scrambling out and loudly advancing on the base while Basilisk 1 urged them on, "Gotta be quick boys and deliver on time or the pizza's free!"

In the middle of a tense battle situation like this, the statement from our ally was so absurd that I couldn't help but laugh a little bit. Count seemed a little more bemused and groaned toward the assault team leader, "Uggh! Your jokes haven't gotten any better."

As the ground battle began to rage, we could see gunfire and explosions as the Osean assault teams pushed their way up the airstrip toward the main buildings of the air base. Unfortunately, more Erusean reinforcements were starting to arrive in response both on the ground and in the air. Skald looked toward the horizon and called out, "Tally three bandits from the valley. They must have been the ones who tried to trap us in the trench."

"More on the ground too," Huxian reported as Basilisk 1 radioed us for help.

"Long Caster, the grounds getting hot and we have multiple hostiles filtering into the area. Requesting some air support down here!"

"Damn! Their timing couldn't be worse," Long Caster exclaimed in dismay, "Our delivery boys are in danger, pilots. Give them some help ASAP!

I nodded, "Understood Long Caster. We're on it! Huxian. Skald. Take out that enemy armor. Count and I will screen you from above and take the enemy fighters."

The rest of the squadron sounded affirmatives and split off the meet the reinforcements. Huxian and Skald swooped low and unloaded a volley of missiles on the advancing enemy armor causing the few surviving vehicles to halt ans scatter in disarray. Up above, Count and I buzzed past a trio of Erusean F-16s and pulled tight rolling turns to engage them. "Count, ready to give these guys the old one-two?"

"Righto," he answered, "Lead the way Strider 1."

We both angled around and criss-crossed our flight paths to surprise the enemy bandits on the flanks before launching a pair of missiles. The bandits peeled off but they couldn't turn in time to shake off the missiles and took them head on. The mangled F-16s tumbled from the skies trailing smoke before disintegrating in midair. With one kill apiece, we set our eyes on the last fight fighter but Count gave a call, "This one's mine. I got em."

"Copy," I answered, "I'll line em up. You knock em down."

I changed direction and dove down on the last fighter in a pursuit angle which caused him to panic. He juked and rolled out toward sea and I followed him keeping a tight bead on my prey. Every so often, I fired a few burst from my gun to keep the bandit in place and off balance. Meanwhile, Count ascended into some cloud cover and angled over until he was in the perfect position. He took a sharp dive and fired a missile which killed the last Falcon before it could react to the surprise attack.

"Good kill Cyclops 2," I praised Count before we turned back toward the battle at the base. By now, the conflict was winding down and the Eruseans were in retreat. With both the skies and the grounds now clear, our marines were able to make their final push on the enemy base's HQ building. I heard Basilisk 1 give a wry chuckle amid some sounds of small arms fire, "Great! I finally get to let my boys ring the doorbell."

That sentence was followed by a large explosion, presumably the assault team blasting down the doors and barricades. As I heard the sounds of scuffling and a firefight, I gave a small grin as I radioed my own squad, "Glad the pizza's on time."

After couple minutes, we heard our allies from below call us again, "Strider Squadron. Long Caster. The enemy has surrendered and the Cape Rainy facilities have been secured."

"Whew! Roger that Basilik Team. Mission Accomplished!" Long Caster sighed happily in relief.

Our mixed fighter squadron regrouped and circled back around to do a flyby over the base when we heard Basilisk 1 and the rest of the Osean marines addressing their Erusean captives, All right listen up! All prisoners of war will be treated in accordance with international law. We've even brought pizza."

"You know... all this talk of food is really getting me hungry," Long Caster chimed in with dismay over the comms.

"Don't worry Long Caster. We promise we'll save you some," Basilisk 1 laughed, "As for the rest of you pilots, stand by while we gain control of the air tower and guide you down. Once you arrive, we can get the party started."

* * *

Soon enough, the marines took control of the air tower and one by one our fighters landed safely on the runways. Once we taxied our aircraft toward the runway aprons and parked, we dismounted from our planes and were greeted by a group of our fellow Oseans. The marines seemed as giddy and relieved as we were that the operation was a success and we took a moment to exchange a few handshakes and pats on the back. We could see another group of armed marines leading some captured base personnel toward one of the buildings that was going to serve as a temporary holding complex. We were even more surprised when one of the marines came back and greeted us holding a long flat box in his hands.

Even in the cool night air, my squadron and I could see some steam and smell something delicious. The marine came forward and offered us the box, "Captain Richter? I was told to give this to you compliments of Basilisk Leader."

"Oh? And what do we have here?" I grinned as I tucked away my flight gloves in the pockets of my jumpsuit.

"We raided the enemy food lockers and it turns out they had a whole stock of frozen pizza. We thought it seemed appropriate so we nuked a pizza in the microwave for you and your team, sir."

"Hell yeah! What's on it?" Count asked eagerly.

"There'd better not be something crazy on it like pineapples," Huxian added in agreement.

The marine opened the box and offered me the warm food, "We thought about adding some 9mm bullets on it to spice it up, but I hope plain old pepperoni will be okay."

I took the first slice and bit into it while wearing big smile, "Don't worry corporal. After the night we've had, I think pepperoni will do just fine."


	12. The Road to Ruin

**A/N: It's your lucky day! Since you guys are awesome, you get a double upload starting with Chapter 11! Enjoy!**

* * *

_**Cape Rainy Air Base, Erusea**_  
_**September 17, 2019**_

The day following the surprise attack on the air base, elements of our forces stationed in North Point were immediately flown over. High Command had the intention of prepping Cape Rainy as a new forward operating base and return line for Osean forces which would assault the capital of Erusea. I think we could all admit, it was a bit of a morale boost to see both Tabloid and Avril when they arrived early the next morning.

As more transport planes continued to arrive, our new work crews busied themselves with filling in for the captured Eruseans that were being shipped off to other detention centers. Before they headed off to work, Avril and Tabloid took some time to speak with Count and I as we hung around outside near some of the undamaged hangers. I held a flat wide box in my hands and waited patiently while our friends got ready for their next shift.

"We heard you guys had a hell of flight in," Tabloid remarked, "I guess the trench run didn't exactly go according to plan?"

"We ran into some unexpected complications," Count admitted, "But I think we should be glad Trigger studied the map and had a Plan B in his back pocket."

"Speaking of plans, what's with the box?" Avril asked curiously pointing to the white box in my hands, "Is that pizza?"

I nodded and gave a slight grin, "I guess you could say we had a little pizza party last night. I promised to save some leftovers for someone… and here he comes now."

We all turned to see our husky AWACS controller Long Caster arrive on the lawn. He looked a little tired and jet lagged and his mustache seemed a bit droopy today, but he immediately seemed to perk up when he saw me.

Count, Tabloid, and I all gave a salute as he approached. Count couldn't help but grin a little bit, "Morning Major. You look like you could use some breakfast."

I handed Long Caster the box and chuckled a little bit too, "As promised, we saved you some of the spoils of war, sir. The Eruseans were gracious enough to let us raid their freezers so we fed them and sent them off to the prison camps afterward."

"At least they won't be accusing us of any war crimes here," Long Caster smiled as he eagerly peeked inside the box, "Mmmm, this one even has Italian sausage! Tom. Eugene. Thank you!"

"Enjoy sir," Count laughed as our controller ambled off to enjoy his treat and find Major Wiseman. Once he was gone, Count crossed his arms and quipped toward me, "I still have no idea where this Italia place is."

Avril threw her hands up in resignation and began to limp toward the hangers, "Come on Tabloid. Let's get moving. We've got work to do and I should probably see just how badly our dumbass friends treated their planes on this sortie."

He gave a nod and shuffled along to follow her until I caught his arm, "Hey hold up a sec, Tabloid. Can you do me a favor? Meet me here at the hanger later tonight? Say 1900 hours? There's something I want to show you."

He gave a puzzled look and tilted his head, "Uh… okay? You're sure you can't just tell me here? What's the deal Trigger?"

"Just trust me," I said patting his shoulder and walking off, "It's been a long night and I need some shuteye. See you at 1900 hours."

* * *

Later that evening, I waited in the hangers of the air base with Avril and Count and we stood by a trainer Su-30 Flanker that had been in storage there. As 1900 hours rolled around, the doors to the hanger opened and Tabloid walked in, just like I had asked him too. He approached cautiously and regarded us all with an apprehensive look, "Hey Trigger... do you mind telling me what's going on here? Any reason you've got the whole gang together?"

I took a spare flight helmet that was sitting on a storage rack and looked over toward him calmly, "Yeah. We just wanted to ask how you were doing? You feel good?"

He gave a puzzled frown, "Yeah. I feel fine. Why are you asking... and why do I get the feeling like I'm about to be mugged for my lunch money?"

Count had circled around and crossed his arms to block off access to the doorway.

"We're not here to beat you up you dumbass. We're here because we're concerned about you," Avril spoke up, "I asked Trigger and Count to come and they feel the same way."

"Seriously, you guys are overreacting," Tabloid scoffed trying to wave it all off, "There's no problem."

"That's not what Avril tells us," I said in a level voice, "She said you had a panic attack in the seat of a plane a few weeks back. She saw you had the shakes and looked ill. Has this been going on a while?"

Tabloid looked around and saw he was getting cornered, "I... no. Not really. Guys, it's nothing you have to worry about okay? Like I said, I'm fine. I don't have PTSD or whatever."

"Aright. Prove it," I said tossing him the helmet and gesturing to the open cockpit of the Flanker behind me, "How about we go on a little joyride. Just you and me?"

Tabloid stared me down in silence and walked toward the step ladder of the plane. He paused again in silence before turning back around, "Why are you making me do this? This is humiliating. I thought you were my friends."

"We are your friends," Avril insisted, "If you've got a problem, then you've gotta tell us or we can't help you."

"Trust me Tabloid, you're not doing yourself any favors by pretending like nothing is wrong and not facing up to your weaknesses," Count sighed walking over, "If anyone's learned that, it's me."

I stepped forward, "They're right Steve. We know you want to help us and be there one the battlefield too, but there's no shame in admitting you need help."

He grimaced and looked at the flight helmet in his hand before I continued, "Tabloid, you were the first guy who was there for me at the 444th. You offered to help me and be my friend. I want to repay the debt I owe you."

He took a deep breath and exhaled, "You guys are really serious here, aren't you?"

"If we weren't then we wouldn't be here," Avril said in an unusually gentle tone.

He looked directly to her for a long moment before giving a determined nod and putting the helmet on his head. He shuffled over to the Flanker and began to climb up into the cockpit. I scrambled after him, "Whoah! Hey buddy, what do you think you're doing?"

"I'm getting my wings back," he said while settling into the cockpit, "I'm not going to power the engines so relax. I'm just going to sit."

I nodded and climbed back into the co-pilots position behind him. As he sat, Tabloid began to feel the onset of panic again, but he gripped the stick with one hand and reached back with the other. I leaned over and clasped his hand, "Don't worry buddy. I'm here. Remember... stick with me and you'll make it, right?"

He fought to retain his composure while he sat but he gave a faint smile and felt a little more in control this time. "Hey Trigger?"

"Yeah, Tabloid?"

He took another breath and continued to feel a little less afraid in the cockpit, "Thanks. Are you okay sitting with me like this for a while yet?"

I nodded my head and gave a quiet smile, "As long as it takes."

* * *

_**Farbanti City, Erusea**_

That night, Princess Rosa sat in the living room of her family's estate drinking a warm cup of tea by a crackling fireplace. She had dressed down to some casual clothes, khaki pants and a white collared blouse and she got comfortable on the couch while watching the news on television with her dog. After the experiences of the other day, she did not want to be in the royal palace and opted for the comfort of a smaller quieter setting. When her uncle had originally taken the throne, Rosa's family had been given this stately mansion in the ritzy uptown area of the city. Right now, she wanted to be in a place that felt more safe and familiar, especially following yesterday's political firestorm.

She knew she had upset a great number of people and she could understand why they'd think the things they did. But she hoped that with the armies of Osea and their Usean allies closing in on all sides, the people of Erusea would see that a negotiated peace would be a better option. Rosa had expected some pushback from the kingdom's left wing party which had supported the war up to now but as time had passed, she had grown increasingly concerned as a fringe of the far leftist Radical faction had grown in influence and seemingly hijacked the party. They had called for increased violence and the suppression of anyone who dared challenge their goals.

For now, Rosa watched the news and tired to gauge the public's reaction to all the political turmoil but it looked like even the people were equally divided and uncertain of the future. Rosa took another sip of tea and idly scratched the ears of her dog which reclined beside her on the couch, but she stopped when she saw a breaking news report. A female reporter stood filming from the balcony of a building overlooking the city where it looked like smoke and fire was starting grow on the horizon.

"This is Cristina Bianchi reporting from downtown Farbanti where several violent riots have begun breaking out over the municipal district. Authorities believe these mass upheavals are politically motivated and in response to the current course of the war. Political activists of Erusea's left wing block are believed to be organizing some of the activities on the ground as authorities are attempting to control the situation. At present, no response has been issued from any government officials yet and…"

Rosa felt her stomach drop as she watched the report before she heard the doorbell. She jumped in surprise and made her way to the front of the manor wondering who would be calling at such a late hour. To her surprise, she saw that it was her chief minister LaRoche at the door with a pair of security guards. She opened the door and let in the panicked looking man, "Minister LaRoche? What's wrong? What's happening?"

"Princess Rosa, I got here as fast as I could. Have you caught the news reports?"

She paused a moment, "I… yes. I have. This is terrible. I need to…"

"You need to come with me right now Your Highness," LaRoche said, "Things are shaping up to be far worse than what's being reported. There is word that elements of the military garrisons here are getting involved along partisan lines… that they may be supporting this uprising. There is a credible threat that the Radicals seek to harm you."

Rosa's heart skipped a beat as the blood drained from her face, "You can't be serious. We have to do something."

"You must come with me Princess!" LaRoche insisted hurriedly, "I've arranged for your transportation to a safe place. Please! There is no time!"

Rosa looked around in a panic while the two security guards in dark suits stood vigilantly by the door in silence. Princess Rosa did the only thing she could at the moment and called her dog to her before taking hold of Prince, "All right. Let's go."

She left the mansion and was escorted to a large black SUV that was waiting on the curb. Once she, LaRoche, and the guards were inside, the car took off quickly and began to drive across the city to its next location. As they drove, Rosa looked out the tinted windows and saw that this part of the city seemed to not have been touched by the riots yet. The bright city lights still glowed in the night and the traffic went about its normal flow as if unaware of the firestorm that had just been ignited in Farbanti. She could only wonder how much longer that false sense of tranquility would last.

After driving toward the southern end of the city, the car turned off the expressway and made its way into the campus of a government installation which serviced the Erusean Navy. The car drove up a dark ramp and entered a warehouse-like area before coming to a stop. Rosa and the others exited the SUV only to find a group of armed Erusean marines standing by with assault rifles trained on her. The princess's eyes went wide as she turned to her minister, "LaRoche? What is going on here? Who are these men? Why are they doing this?"

"I think I can answer that for you Your Highness," said a middle age man in an expensive dark suit. He was a youngish looking man with slicked back dark hair and a predatory grin. Rosa immediately recognized him as Enrico Moretti, a major official in Parliament and a leader of the Radical faction.

"Mr. Moretti?"

He laughed, "It appears that the times are changing Princess and I'm inviting you to be my guest so that you can witness a new era for the kingdom."

"Your Radicals are tearing this city apart right now Enrico. Do you have any idea how much death and destruction you're causing?"

"You're lecturing me about causing death and destruction?" he snorted derisively, "You and your foolish father were the ones who started this war and brought about a greater deal of death and destruction."

"After having been convinced by your people that is was right thing to do… except now I'm starting to see that I might have been wrong," Rosa countered, "I want to try and make up for my mistake and do the right thing."

"The right thing? You look to sell us out to the Osean Federation!" Moretti replied passionately, "We started this war Princess. We can't just change our mind and end it like that on a whim. The wheels have begun to turn and we need to see this through."

"To what end Moretti? To the destruction of Erusea? To what I'm guessing is your rise in power?" Rosa argued back.

"To save Erusea from itself," he countered, "To save it from the inexperience and idealism of a stupid child. You made a bad mistake when you decided to turn away and alienate our Radical wing Your Highness. There are many in the public and the military who want this war and still seek to restore Erusea's tarnished glory."

Rosa looked to the marines, "So what does this have to do with me? Why don't you just shoot me too?"

Moretti shook his head, "No. You still have some value to us right now Princess. The Conservatives and undecided in the masses might still listen to you. You can spare them and tell them to stand down... to surrender to us and make this a peaceful transition of power."

"A transition of power still carried out by gunpoint," Rosa pointed out coldly while looking at one of the rifles which was trained on her. "They would realize that you know."

"Perhaps," Moretti admitted, "Or we could sell you to the Oseans who are coming this way and buy ourselves some bargaining power. I'm sure they'd love to take you prisoner too."

She did her best to keep a level face, "You really believe your Radical faction would be enough to stop the Oseans from taking Farbanti anyway?"

Moretti grinned, "Maybe they'll take Farbanti, but we have other ways of hurting them which perhaps you're familiar with… with satellites and advanced drone technology? The very technology that Colonel Shilage and Dr. Schroeder are so generously perfecting for us right now? I understand they are nearly complete."

Rosa's blood ran cold again and she stepped back a moment in fear, "No… you wouldn't! You're lying!"

"You're right, my dear, I'm a politician and I lie about a great many things," Moretti smiled, "But I'm not about this."

"I'm not going to help you!" she protested but Moretti shook his head.

"We'll see about that. We'll see how long it takes, or how many more lives are lost before you give in. Until then, you will remain a guest here. And as for you Minister LaRoche..."

"You promised that my family would be spared in the revolution… that they will not be harmed if I helped you."

Moretti nodded, "And they won't. I will see to that. You on the other hand… I cannot abide such disloyal traitors to remain in our new government."

"What?" LaRoche gasped, "You said…"

"If you are so easily manipulated and willing to betray Princess Rosa, then what's to say you wouldn't betray me too?" Moretti sighed before giving a flippant hand signal.

One of the security guards in suits pulled his pistol and shot LaRoche from behind at point-blank range, killing him instantly.

Rosa jumped and stared in wide eyed horror as her treacherous minister collapsed to the floor and began to bleed all over the floor. Prince whimpered and cowered behind Rosa while she realized that part of the blood spray had hit her and stained part of her blouse as well as her face.

Enrico Moretti sighed and shook his head toward the rest of the marines, "Clean up this mess. The rest of you, take the princess to a secure holding cell and do not harm her. Make sure she's comfortable, because for the rest of the kingdom, it's going to be a very long night."


	13. Promises to Keep

**_Cape Rainy Air Base, Erusea_**  
**_September 18, 2019_**

It had been a busy few days following the capture of Cape Rainy, but after a long morning of moving supplies and reorganizing things, I was able to sit down in one of the lounges and relax with my friends over a card game in the afternoon. I sat at a table playing poker with Tabloid, Count, Avril, and Huxian and the mood seemed fairly light and relaxed. Tabloid shuffled the cards and dealt out new hands while giving a sigh, "You know, it kinda sucks not being able to get the newest editions of the papers here yet. With our information systems here still being filtered, it's hard to get a lot of news going on outside."

"Too bad Full Band's not here. I'm sure he could take care of that for you no sweat," Count mused as he took his cards and studied them.

"I hear the Osean forces are moving on Farbanti," Avril said, "But I'm not sure how close they are. I'd have to think it would be any day now, right?"

I grimaced, "Then that means we'd be scrambled too. We're right on the frontlines here."

Huxian studied her cards and gave a thoughtful look before folding her hand, "You know... I heard rumors that there were debates going on in Erusea. It seems Princess Rosa gave a speech recently that was calling for a possible peace treaty between Osea and Erusea."

"You think that's for real?" I asked hopefully, "I'm actually kinda surprised, but if we can hammer out a peace deal then I'd be happy with an end to the war."

Count grimaced, "Or it could be a big trap. Maybe they mean to lure us in and then tighten the noose."

Tabloid folded his hand and gave a grim nod, "I hate to say it, but I share Count's doubts about it. I've heard the political parties of the Erusean government had been pretty divided recently and a surprise announcement like that would really rock the boat and cause an uproar. The princess is essentially bucking the left wing party that had been the most supportive of her and the war effort."

"Maybe she had a change of heart?" I asked as I took a few more cards before deciding to fold myself.

"We can only hope so Trigger," Huxian shrugged before an announcement came in over the intercoms calling Strider and Cyclops Squadrons to action. Count grumbled and tossed his cards aside as he was ready to get into a wager war with Avril but was now forced to leave the table.

"Hold this thought Avril. I'll be back!" he called as the res to us pilots quickly departed the room.

The Scrap Queen simply smiled and took our poker chips for herself and Tabloid, "And to the victors go the spoils."

Some time later, the pilots of Strider and Cyclops Squadrons gathered at the temporary HQ of the air base where Major Wiseman and Long Caster set up a briefing room. We took our seats and settled in as Long Caster stood at the head of the room and spoke while gesturing to our new tactical map, "Okay listen up everyone! The operation to capture Erusea's capital is now underway. This is the culmination of all our hard work. We need to capture the Erusean Force's General Headquarters in the south of Farbanti and end this war. The plan is for allied ground forces to attack Farbanti from the north and east while a task fleet will attack from the southwest. We will secure air superiority over the capital while providing air support for our allies on the ground and in the water as required. By all accounts, we expect this to be an intense full scale battle across land, air, and sea."

"All right. We've got em cornered!" Count grinned excitedly.

Huxian put a hand on his shoulder to restrain him a little, "Hold on. That fact may cause Erusea to fight even harder if they know they're desperate."

"Lt. Zhang is correct," Long Caster nodded in agreement, "According to some recent intel, the situation on the ground there has become a lot more messy than we expected. It may be a double edged sword so we're not sure what to think just yet. It seems there's been a breakdown in the Erusean government and they've splintered into two major factions. Just last night, the Radical left wing party and their military supporters had seized control of the capital along with other regions in their country. It's also believed they've overthrown Princess Rosa Cossette D'Elise and are currently holding her hostage."

There was surprised murmuring among the pilots and I felt my own stomach drop at that shocking revelation. Maybe Tabloid had been right after all. Long Caster waited patiently for a moment before the noise from us died down again, "We believe the Conservative faction may want to negotiate a separate peace with us but for the time being, we're going to be dealing with the rogue military forces of the Radical party who currently occupy the city. We will treat them as we originally would in the plan and you can still consider them hostile forces."

Wiseman stepped up and folded his hands behind his back while at attention, "During this operation, Osean forces will also be tasked with having to destroy a number of communication satellites that Erusea has hacked. If we can take down their information and communication systems, we believe that will disrupt the enemy and cause chaos among their forces. Once the capital falls, the Radical Erusean military forces will be isolated and thrown into disarray making it easier for us to end the war. However, that can't happen until after the capital falls so you pilots will be the stars of this battle. Erusea will fight like a tiger, but we cannot lose. We must seize Farbanti and end this conflict for good."

The lights went on again and Wiseman called out, "We sortie out at 1400 hours tomorrow. Get ready to study your plans and get some rest. This is it everyone. Good luck!"

* * *

**_Erusean General Headquarters, Farbanti City_**

Elsewhere, Princess Rosa sat in a detention cell within what she learned was the new provisional General Headquarters. Prince sat dejectedly on the bench beside her with his head on her lap. Despite his reassuring presence in this dire situation, it did not make Rosa feel much better. She leaned her head against the cold wall and stared at the barren ceiling trying to keep tears from her eyes. This disaster had been all her fault. She should have been smart enough and strong enough to stop it, but instead she just made the problems even worse. She blamed herself for getting duped by the Radicals into championing this foolish war with Osea and then losing control of the government in the process.

Countless people had already died because of her. Because she had been naive and idealistic. The conflict had made her sick and she just wanted to end the madness and the suffering that was now spreading across the kingdom and to rest of Usea. If the Radicals under Moretti succeeded in acquiring that advanced drone technology, the Arsenal Bird, and the Lighthouse, there was no telling what other atrocities they would do. If she somehow managed to escape this prison, she vowed she would stop the Radicals and their violent ways at any cost. She swore she would be stronger, braver, and wiser, but that required her escape. As she sat alone with her thoughts, she wondered if the Osean military was still coming to capture Farbanti. Would they find her here and if they did, what would they do with her? Right now there was only one man she knew of in the Osean forces and she could only wonder if he would be willing to help her. She needed a miracle and a hero to save her. She needed the pilot with Three Strikes.

* * *

**_Erusean Air and Space Administration_**  
**_Experimental Testing Facility_**

Meanwhile Dr. Schroeder sat at his workstation sorting through more data at his computer console. At long last, his drone project was nearing its last stages. If everything went as planned during these next test flights, he'd have what he needed to finish his work. He was certain that the Erusean government would be willing to reward him handsomely and that he's never have to worry about money or funding again. He might even become world famous and be on the cover of popular science magazines. He could be lauded as the Father of Modern Drones and perhaps even a Guardian of Erusea. He sat back from his work and looked at the single red processing core of a drone test unit which was to be used as a sort of "brain" for the systems. For a moment, it almost looked like a sinister single red eye but Schroeder's idle thoughts were pulled away as a person entered the lab.

The scientist turned to see the person he was expecting, "Ah. Colonel Shilage. You're finally here. Are you ready?"

Col. Mihaly Shilage stood wearing the advanced new flight-suit that Schroeder had commissioned for him. The futuristic bodysuit was sleek and had several computer nodes with which to interface with his plane, "I am Doctor."

"I see you've tried the new suit on. How does it feel?"

The old pilot flexed and tested his rage of movement, "It feels good. But I want to see how it handles in the air."

Schroeder nodded and took his laptop computer in a briefcase before walking out the door with Mihaly. "Very well Colonel. Let's go."

Soon enough, the doctor had taken up an observation position outside in a tent on the salt flats. From his vantage point, Schroeder could see the main airstrip and monitor everything from that spot remotely. As he taxied out on the runway, Mihaly watched as the rest of his test squadron took off into the skies. The bright afternoon sunlight lit up the orange painted wings and tails of Sol Squadron as they grouped up and maintained a holding pattern above, waiting for their leader. Mihaly lowered the visor of his helmet and heard Schroeder speak on the comms, "You're next Colonel. You're clear to take off."

"Understood," the ace replied as he fired his thrusters and roared down the runway. After several hundred feet, Mihaly surprised everybody by making an abrupt and steep vertical climb which left smoke contrails behind him. Dr. Schroeder stopped and stared as Sol 1 climbed high into the skies like a rocket shooting toward the heavens before Mihaly pulled a post stall turn and then went about hitting several high G maneuvers in succession. The scientist stared in awe at the veteran ace's piloting skill and almost forgot to look at the valuable data that was now coming in to his computer.

From the cockpit of his custom Su-30 Flanker, Mihaly smiled and continued to nimbly maneuver his aircraft at high speed. This suit that he wore felt incredible and it allowed him to fly even better than he had been able to in years. Through the miracles of modern science, this suit made him feel like a young pilot again. He handled the plane deftly and leveled out as his squadron came to meet him. He could hear the excited chatter of his wingmen escorts, "Woohoo! Look at that! The King of the Skies is back! Long live the King!"

Mihaly throttled up and roared across the clear blue skies at high speed. He was now ready to test the limits again and with this new edge, he was ready to face his chosen foe. He was ready to face the pilot called Three Strikes and this time he would be the one that prevailed.

* * *

**_Cape Rainy Air Base, Erusea_**

The next day, Count and I suited up for battle and made our way out to the hangers. We were joined by Tabloid and Avril who had come to see us off before we sortied. Afternoon sunlight filled the room and it would only be a few more hours when allied forces were expected to attack Farbanti on the ground. There was a palpable excitement that hung in the air. It was one mixed of uncertainty, hope, and eagerness that we could deal a decisive blow to Erusea and hopefully end the war for good.

Once we entered the hangers we could see there was already a lot of activity going on. The ground crews and the technicians were all doing last minute preparations for our jets as they knew the seriousness of this operation as well. Count and I strolled down the walkway until we came to our parking spots. Much to our delight, we saw that our squadrons' F-15C Eagles had been completely restored and readied for battle. They were fitted with extra missiles and ammunition, and that was okay by us. For a battle like this, we pilots wanted to be armed to the teeth and packing as much firepower as possible. Count gave a low whistle as he walked near his aircraft and admired it, "Damn... you guys really outdid yourselves. The Eagles look great! They're repainted and polished to a shine too!"

"Well if you're going to go out and win the war for Osea today, we figured we might as well make sure that you and Trigger look presentable," Avril sighed trying to sound modest, "And don't tell the others in the squadron, but your and Trigger's planes might have gotten some extra attention to up your performance even more."

"What she means to say is that the Scrap Queen gave your two planes her extra special touch," Tabloid winked.

"Thanks Avril. We won't let you down," I smiled warmly as I put a friendly arm around her shoulders.

She gave a sheepish shrug before Tabloid stepped forward and extended a hand toward Count and I, "We're counting on you to end this. Good luck out there you guys. We'll be waiting for you when you come back."

Count and I took turns shaking his hand and giving him a firm man hug. We had said goodbye to our friends before missions in the past, but for some reason there seemed to be an extra weightiness to everything with what was at stake here. Once Tabloid stepped back, Count and I were both surprised as Avril came over and hooked her arms around our necks to pull us into a three person hug. She cleared her throat, "I... um... do me a favor you guys?"

"The usual?" Count asked while patting her on the back, "Don't be dumbasses? Don't wreck our planes?"

"How about just don't die, okay?" she said before giving us both quick kisses on the cheek.

I let go of her and gave a reassuring nod, "Wilco Avril. Just sit tight. I promise we'll be home soon."

She stepped back as Tabloid took her shoulder and gave us a wave goodbye. Count and I began walking over toward our fighters to start our pre-flight checks when I saw Count chuckling to himself quietly.

"Hey man, what's so funny?" I asked curiously.

Count clapped my shoulder and gave a wink, "I couldn't help but wonder how jealous Tabloid might be right now. You and I already got to first base with Avril before he did."

Despite the worry and tension I was feeling about this coming mission, I couldn't help but laugh a little bit too. Little did I know that with the ferocious battle we were about to enter, we would need every last once of humor and good cheer that we could possibly muster.

* * *

**A/N:**  
**A slightly shorter setup chapter here, but you'll all get a whole chapter dedicated to the Battle of Farbanti coming up very soon. To respond to a prior Guest review, I will plan to write all the way to Mission 20 but I'm going to divide this series up into three arcs to make a Lighthouse War trilogy. You can expect two more chapters to close out Triple Threat here and the next upcoming story titled 'The Maiden's Shield' will cover Missions 16-20.**


	14. Battlecry

_**Skies over Farbanti City, Erusea**_  
_**September 19, 2019**_

A golden orange hue hung over the skies as the coastal city of Farbanti was bathed in the light of the late afternoon sun. The almost serene and divine looking light which reflected off the clouds and waters stood in stark contrast to what had already occurred in the city and of what was yet to come. Strider and Cyclops Squadrons began our descent from high altitude and cut through the clouds to get a better view of the battlefield which was now opening up below us. We could see the fontlines of the Osean Army already pushing in from the edges of the city and fighting their way through the ground forces of the Radicals who still controlled the capital. We were approaching a massive battlefront and it looked the like the conflict was raging in several zones upon the ground, the air, and the seas.

"You know what today is, right everyone?" my wingmate Jaeger asked over the comms. He always had a knack for story telling so I figured I'd humor him, "Fourteen years ago, the ISAF launched an attack just like this on Farbanti to end the Continental War. History has a weird way of repeating itself, doesn't it?"

"Let's just hope it ends the same way," Huxian replied grimly as she watched the fire in the distant skies, "Quickly and decisively."

"Where's Mobius 1 when you need him, right?" Lanza quipped.

Count scoffed lightly, "Pfft. Forget him. We've got Trigger on our side. He can probably take down the entire Erusean military singlehandedly, right bud?"

"Thanks Count. No pressure or anything, right?" I snorted in mild sarcasm.

The truth was, we were all feeling a little nervous. For all we knew, this was it. We were flying into the final decisive battle of the Lighthouse War and we had a chance to end it here and now. It was a once in a lifetime shot and we didn't want to waste it. We were all brought to attention as we heard Long Caster call in over our radios, "Listen up LRSSG, our troops have already engaged at Farbanti Reconstruction Park, Silver Bridge, and the Submerged Area. We need you to help our boys in those three locations. It's time. Commence the operation. Our friends are waiting... good luck everyone."

One by one we all sounded affirmatives to our AWACS controller before we reached the edge of the city's airspace. From above, I couldn't help but admire the beauty and uniqueness of the enemy's capital city, but I could only imagine the hell that was going on upon the ground. I lowered my helmet's visor over my eyes to block out the sun's glare and throttled forward at attack speed while Strider Squadron formed up behind me. "All right gang, this is it. Let's rock and roll!"

When we were almost in range for our radars to pick up locks on the enemies, I could hear Wisemman speak up on his radio. He spoke with his usual cheery confidence that always bolstered our unit and reassured us that everything was going to be okay. "Lately as your wing commander, I've felt some of you young bucks coming after my championship belt. You're really putting the pressure on me so I think I'm going to get out there and run up the score a little bit... just to show you guys how it's done. I trust I can count on all of you to keep up? Let's get out there, take care of business, and come home in one piece."

Strider and Cyclops Squadrons split off and broke formation to engage the first wave of Erusean fighters that came out to meet us in the air. A ferocious aerial melee broke out as the skies lit up with gunfire, flares, and smoke contrails from missiles being launched. The roar of our Eagles' thrusters echoed across the skies while I rolled and wove through the enemies as they buzzed by like a swarm of angry bees. The Radicals' formation seemed to be a bit disorganized and slapped together with all kinds of random fighters. Old Erusean Migs flew beside some F-16's, along with groups of Mirages, and handfuls of Su-35 Flankers. There was no rhyme or reason, but we didn't have time to question as we fought for our lives up there. I cleared my path and juked left while spraying a stream of gunfire which shredded an enemy Mirage and sent it streaking away with a trail of fire behind it.

"Stay sharp Striders. Traffic is pretty heavy up here," Skald growled as he shook off an enemy Mig and let Jaeger down it with a missile. I rolled again to avoid a midair collision and ascended at a sharp angle to turn and catch another bandit from behind with a heatseeker to its wing. The Erusean Flanker tumbled away from the explosion as its wing sheared off and sent the plane into a fiery death spiral downward. "Strider 1, splash 2."

I gasped and tried to catch my breath while righting myself and hearing my missile warning siren blaring. This was insane. There was no time to think, only to react. No matter how many bandits we downed, there was always another one and we were under constant threat of missile lock. "Damn! I've picked one up. I can't shake him!"

"I've got you Strider 1. Break right!" I heard Count call. I cut right into a sharp banking dive just as Count swooped in from out of nowhere and blindsided the Erusean Falcon that was harrying me. His missile hit the bandit head-on and destroyed the fighter in a midair fireball.

"Whew! Thanks Count! Nice move," I sighed in relief while I heard him laugh victoriously.

As we continued to dogfight our way through some of the Erusean air defenses, I could hear Wiseman chuckling at what he had seen, "Count is back in the saddle as Cyclops 2! It's good to be flying with you again partner!"

"Cute. No, that's real funny," Count mumbled as we finally scattered the enemy fighters and routed them, "Looks like we made a breakthrough."

"Copy that. Where to Major Wiseman?" Huxian asked as she formed up on his wing.

"We'll assist our troops at Reconstruction Park and provide air support. Strider Squadron, you up to take Silver Bridge?"

I angled my fighter toward the other side of the city and throttled forward, "We're on it. Watch your backs out there Cyclops."

We parted from our sister squadron and raced south toward the Silver Bridge area linking several districts. From what I could see, it looked like Osean ground forces were pinned down by a group of group of enemy A-10s which circled lazily in the skies like a flock of vultures. If our troops couldn't push across the bridge, they wouldn't be able to strike at Erusea's General Headquarters nearby. Lanza was already licking his chops and arming his missiles, "I think I smell a mismatch here boss."

"Just stay clear of their guns," I agreed, "We'll hit them high, Striders! Go! Go ! Go!"

Strider Squadron dove in and plowed into the enemy flight before they could bring their heavy guns to bear. We veered around the large cumbersome attack planes and buzzed around them, seeming to strike from all sides at once. It was clear they could not keep up with our faster more agile fighters and one by one, the Erusean A-10s were blown out of skies.

From the ground, the Osean forces gave a cheer as they watched 4 birds of prey tear into the enemy air support, picking them off like hawks would kill pigeons in mid flight. Once we cleared the skies, Strider Squadron formed up and did a flyby while the ground forces gave another cheer. Several of their voices chorused in over our radios, "All right! It's the LRSSG! Did you see Three Strikes in the sky? We might stand a chance out here after all!"

As we jetted away and headed north again, Long Caster raised a new alarm for us, "Strider. Cyclops. Our naval forces are going to make their approach into the harbor. We need you to clear their way."

"Wilco Long Caster. We're all done over here!" Wiseman answered from the other side of the city, "Strider, are you with us?"

"We're headed inbound from the south Cyclops 1. We'll meet you there soon!" I answered as we raced out toward sea to help the fleet. As we made our way toward the coast, I couldn't help but crane my neck and look out toward what looked to be a sunken district of the city below. A section of the city's old buildings lay in ruins and was half submerged in the water, most likely as a result of the old Ulysses asteroid strikes. Even though we were there to rain down death and destruction on our enemies here, I had to respect the Eruseans in a way for continuing to persevere and build on top of their ruins.

I could see the orange gold sunlight shining off the waters and called my pilots to order, "Strider Squadron, form up. We'll use the sunlight to mask our approach and blind the enemy."

"All while catching them in a pincer attack? I'm loving this plan already," Jaeger grinned as Strider Squadron sped over the waters and made a low approach toward some of the Erusean naval forces barring the path to the main harbor.

"Forget the small ships. Take out the support cruisers and the missile destroyers," Long Caster called out while painting the priority targets for us on radar.

"Just like Snider's Top. Piece of cake!" Huxian exclaimed as Cyclops Squadron appeared from the north and moved to attack the enemy fleet from the opposite direction.

By now, the enemy ships had spotted us and began to open up with intercepting fire that filled the skies. Just like we had planned, Strider had an advantage with our backs to the sun and the glare blinded the gunners of the ships as they sprayed thick volleys of wild AA fire at us. Many of the shots went wide allowing us to get close enough to hammer the ships with volleys of missiles while Cyclops came from the opposite side and struck a one-two punch. By the time the Erusean ships realized they had been caught in an aerial pincer attack, it was too late. Wiseman swooped in low over the waters and fired a pair of missiles at the heart of a cruiser which split it in half.

"Aright! Score one for the good guys!" he crowed proudly while rolling clear of some more flak that was fired his way.

One by one, the Erusean task force was ravaged as four more missile destroyers were taken apart. Huxian ascended after destroying an enemy ship and rejoined her team as we broke off and headed back toward the coastline of the city. She looked back toward the smoldering ruins of several boats and sighed, "I'm pretty sure our allies can mop up here, right Long Caster?"

"Affirmative Cyclops 4. Nice work out there. You guys are going to be heroes."

Wiseman chuckled again as he led the way back toward the Sunken District, "Don't know what medals they've got for us, but if y'all want one, then come back in one piece."

His words were almost ironic as Cyclops 3 gave a shout, "Missile! Evade!"

Our planes scrambled and split off as we saw several plumes go wide and miss us from below. Lanza angled his plane and squinted to try and follow the smoke to its source, "Whoah! What's going on Long Caster? Where did those come from?"

"New enemy contacts," our controller answered in surprise, "We're picking up some Erusean ships hidden within the ruins of the Sunken District. They may pose a threat to our fleet when they arrive."

"Understood," Wiseman answered quickly, "What do you say we all give them a little payback for that surprise attack on us?"

Just then, we got another call in over our radios and it sounded like it was coming from the south and its source was an Osean infantry team, "This is Sigma Team! We're taking the General Headquarters now, but we've got enemy gunships inbound. Requesting air cover or we won't be able to hold this position."

"Copy that. Rerouting some help your way," Long Caster answered, "Strider 1? Our boys are going to get pinned down and they need you. I'm getting word the princess of Erusea might be holed up in that building so it's imperative you keep her safe too."

"On my way," I answered as I peeled off and roared south as fast as I could to help our allies. I could only hope I'd get there in time while I wore a grim look on my face, "Look at that, I'm off to save a princess while I'm at it."

* * *

Meanwhile, Princess Rosa sat in her detention cell with her dog listening fearfully at the sounds of the battle raging outside. From time to time she could hear the sounds of rumbling and even thought she felt the building shake at point. Some of the lights flickered a moment causing two of the armed guards to pause and look at each other a moment. Rosa knew just as well as they did that there was a ferocious battle going on outside and it would only be a matter of time before they were involved too.

It pained her to think that the city which she called home was under attack once again. All their progress in trying to rebuild and become a new nation, lost. But perhaps it had already been lost when the Radicals took over the government and instigated this civil war on top of the chaos. Maybe it was for the best that the Osean military was finally here to wipe the slate clean again. It was strange that maybe it could be considered a victory by having your original enemy occupy your capital. Rosa didn't know what this new Erusea would look like, but if she was fortunate enough to survive this terrible war, then she promised herself that she would do her best to ensure it would be a better country.

There was another rumble and some dust fell from the ceiling as some explosives or high powered artillery went off somewhere in the area. Prince whined and curled up next to Rosa and she put her hand lovingly on her pet's head to try and reassure him, "Don't worry boy. It's okay. I promise I won't let anything bad happen to you."

She looked up and decided to taunt the guards a little, "That must be the Oseans. They're getting close, aren't they?"

The guards turned and glared at her in annoyance as she continued to goad them, "Where is your great leader Mr. Moretti? Is that traitor out there fighting to protect this building?"

"He's left the capital for somewhere safe," one of the guards said flatly, "What does it matter to you, girly?"

"So much for your great leader," Rosa sniffed, "He's probably hiding from the Oseans, cowering in some bunker wetting himself. And he left you here too."

"Shut up," the guard snapped, "We aren't afraid of the Oseans. If anyone should be afraid of what they'll do to them, it should be you."

Before Rosa could speak again, there was a loud commotion outside followed by an explosion. The main door to the outer room was blown off its hinges and there was a blinding flash followed by a loud smoke bomb going off. Rosa cowered in her cell and covered her dog as the two guards tried to recover from the flash-bang grenade. Before they could raise their weapons, there was some sharp reports of gunfire and they were shot dead. A group of heavily armed Osean commandos burst through and startled the princess as they reached the cell door. Their leader was a sergeant in a facemask and he shot out the lock to pull open the door. He came in quickly and towered over the frightened girl, "Are you the princess? Rosa Cossette D'Elise?"

"I... yes... please! Don't hurt me!"

"Come with us miss. There's no time!" the commando said, "This place is a warzone and our orders are to get you out of here!"

She sputtered as she grabbed her dog and felt herself being hauled out of the room quickly by some soldiers, "Wait! I don't understand! Where are you taking me?"

"Someplace safe miss. Please, just be quiet and come with us. Hurry!"

As they rushed down the hallways toward the exit of the building, she heard the leader of the commandos speak into his radio, "This is Sigma Team. We've taken the General Headquarters and recovered the princess but we don't have a lot of time. What's the word on that air support?"

That made Rosa remember and take pause, "Wait! Do you know Three Strikes? The pilot with three lines on his tail?"

The commando blinked at her in confusion for a moment before they exited the building and saw an Osean chopper landing on the lawn to extract her. From her vantage point on the lawn, she could see scores of Osean troops and vehicles had surrounded the building. In the near distance of Farbanti's skyline, she could see smoke and fire on the horizon from all the chaotic fighting that was still going on. They were about to try and sprint across the lawn toward the chopper when they saw a flight of Erusean assault helicopters buzz in and strafe the area. The Oseans troops took cover as the choppers swept by overhead and the commandos forced Rosa to get down behind a nearby gate for protection.

The heavily armed helicopters circled back around and got into formation to launch another attack when another roar was heard in the skies. The Oseans turned to see a silver F-15C Eagle swoop in from the clouds like an avenging angel leaving white contrails from the wingtips. The fighter deftly rolled in the air and fired a pair of missiles which hit two of the enemy helicopters causing them to explode and spiral toward the ground in a string of wreckage. As the Eagle passed the last chopper, it pulled a high climbing maneuver and looped back around to unload a searing spray of gunfire into the last enemy from overhead. The bullets shredded the Erusean chopper's propeller blades and caused it to lurch sideways before crashing violently into the ground some distance away.

From below, the Osean troops and Rosa could only stare in awe as the fighter made a wide banking turn and did a low altitude flyby to make sure his allies were safe. The troops cheered and the commandos gave a wave before Rosa saw the three lines on the fighter's tail fins. Her heart stopped in her chest and her eyes went wide. It was really him! He was here! She reached for the skies and called out, "Three Strikes! Trigger! Can you hear me?"

She was grabbed roughly by the arm and shuttled toward the waiting chopper by the commandos, "No time! Come with us Your Highness!"

* * *

Up above I soared by the General Headquarters and gave a wave to my allies when I could have sworn I heard a young woman's muffled voice over Sigma Team's radio. It sounded like "Trigger. Can you hear me?"

It couldn't have been... could it? Was that Princess Rosa's voice I just heard? I shook it off and sped back across the city to rejoin my squadron. Right now, there was a battle still raging and I had more important things to worry about. By the time I reached the Sunken District, I could see Strider and Cyclops Squadrons regrouping. Plumes of smoke rose up from the waters of the ruined buildings and I could only guess that they had been successful in decimating the hidden enemy naval forces there.

"Hey, it's about time. You just missed the party boss," Lanza laughed as the Striders rejoined me on my wings.

"Hopefully this party is winding down," I remarked looking at the smoke and fires across Farbanti while the skies turned orange and red from the early evening sun. Just like the city, it almost looked like the skies themselves were on fire too.

"You're not too far off Strider 1," Long Caster chimed in over the comms, "All aircraft, listen carefully. We have the upper hand now and the enemy HQ has just been captured. The end of the war is now is sight. Think of something you'd like to eat when you get home guys. Cause I'm buyin'!"

We all gave a cheer as Count started to laugh in response, "Roger that, sir!"

Ever the veteran, Major Wiseman gave a mild huff and chided his old friend Long Caster, "Man, come on! Don't say stuff like that and jinx us right now!"

Our AWACS controller sounded sheepish for a moment as he apologized, "Oh... you're right. Sorry."

There was a long pause before we heard him speak again, only this time there was palpable fear and urgency in Long Caster's voice, "Wait! New bogeys coming fast! No, five custom Su-30s inbound!"

"Are you serious? You've got to be kidding me!" Huxian gasped.

I began to feel a sinking feeling in my stomach as the icy fingers of dread gripped my heart. We were so close. We were on the verge of a decisive victory here in Farbanti. There was no way it could be who I thought it was... could it?

We followed the direction of our radar blips and turned to look out toward the southern skies. We continued to watch as five custom Su-30 Flankers approached at high speed bearing the colors of black and orange. Upon their tails was the emblem of Erusea's elite experimental unit Sol Squadron and leading their charge was their king himself. I could feel my palms sweat and my pulse quicken as the five Flankers roared over Farbanti and split off like rays of a sunburst to attack us. I could already hear Major Wiseman murmur on the radio, "Shit. It's Mister X!"


	15. Shattered Skies

_***Double Update! Might as well finish off this story with a bang, right?**_

* * *

_**Skies over Farbanti City, Erusea**_  
_**September 19, 2019**_

The screaming sound of jet engines sounded across Farbanti as Erusea's best aces in Sol Squadron clashed in the skies with our elite pilots of the LRSSG. As we engaged the enemy, we could hear Long Caster speaking to us with a hard edge in his voice, "LRSSG, we have an emergency order from mission command: bring down Mister X! I know it's a tall order, but HQ wouldn't be asking if they didn't have faith in you."

The fighter jets of both sides roared past each other and tangled in midair trying to achieve radar locks. As I accelerated and tumbled amid the aerial scrum, I could hear open radio channels between both sides. No doubt this was Col. Shilage's idea to try and intimidate us. One of his wingmen, Sol 2 streaked by and I heard him comment to his allies, "Watch yourselves. Their two leaders are elite pilots but don't drop your guard against the others either."

"That's okay, a little challenge is always fun," Mihaly's deep voice said with what almost sounded like a smile, "Especially against experienced fighters. Isn't that right Three Strikes?"

I gritted my teeth and tried to find Mihaly in the chaos, "I'm coming for you Shilage!"

From his own plane, Mihaly smirked and changed direction quickly. He wasn't interested in dueling right now. He had another strategy in mind. He radioed Sol 2, "Wit, keep Three Strikes busy for me."

"Yes sir!"

Sol 2 engaged again and blew by me flying at a strategic angle goading me to give chase to him. If I took the bait, I'd lose sight of Mihaly right now, but if I didn't, I'd be leaving myself open to a counterattack from Sol 2. For now, I chose the safer option. I tailed Sol 2.

Meanwhile, several of the Erusean fighters split our formation and forced Skald to veer off in a climb. The coordinated enemy plan worked as it left him open to attack. Skald cried out in alarm as he was hit by a missile from Sol 4 and began to spiral toward the ground. Before anyone else could help him, Mihaly dove in and finished him off causing the Eagle to disintegrate in midair. Long Caster added his own alarmed shout, "No! Strider 2 is down!"

"No! No! No! Who are these guys?" Count moaned in dread as he tried to evade one of the Sol Squadron Flankers.

"Skald, damn it! Eject!" I called still preoccupied with my own bandit but our controller relayed the bad news.

"I'm sorry Trigger. Skald didn't make it."

I felt my blood began to boil at the loss of a wingman and I called out in fury to the others to spur them on and avenge our fallen comrade, "Striders! Don't let up! Show no mercy! We can't let Mister X run wild!"

"Wilco." / "Roger that." Jaeger and Lanza replied as they engaged another enemy.

Having been spurred to action, Huxian made an aggressive cut and accelerated into a descending spiral to go after an enemy. She fired a pair of missiles and they found their mark before Sol 5 could change direction. The Flanker was hit in a fiery blast and began to fall apart in midair but not before its pilot ejected to safety. She gave a proud cheer at having downed an enemy ace, "All right! There's something!'

No sooner had she taken down her foe, Huxian was thrown forward in her seat as her Eagle took some gunfire from behind. She was jostled violently and she heard a warning siren as she saw one of her engines had been damaged. Fear gripped her as she took evasive action and swerved aside, all while shutting down the engine. She could still fly on one thruster but she knew she was now at a severe disadvantage now. Sol 3 rolled in the skies and relentlessly pursued her, trying to finish off his wounded prey. Huxian kept turning to look over her shoulder while she fought with her joystick to maneuver, "This is Cyclops 4! I'm hit! I need help here!"

"Don't worry Lin. I'm here," she heard Count say over the radio as saw his fighter race in and buzz Sol 3 forcing the enemy to break pursuit. The Erusean fighter veered away to avoid the midair collision and he struggled to try and reorient himself but those precious seconds cost him. Count braked abruptly and pulled a tight turn to line up a shot and lock down his enemy. He let fly two missiles which curved through the air and tagged Sol 3, blowing the rear of the Flanker to pieces. Count smiled triumphantly as he saw the Erusean pilot eject before speaking again, "I'm not going to let you harm a lady."

Huxian blinked in surprise, touched by Count's chivalry and she breathed a grateful sigh of relief, "Thanks Count. I owe you one."

"Forget it. We're even now from Cape Rainy," he said angling over in close formation to guard her in battle.

Across the skies, Jaeger, Lanza, and Fencer worked together to corral Sol 4 and keep the enemy boxed in. The three Oseans flew in close formation finally got an angle to attack before Jaeger took a kill-shot and brought down the Erusean. Their victory was short lived as Mihaly pounced on them and split their group. Jaeger and Lanza rolled clear but Cyclops 3 was caught flat-footed. Mihaly's missile hit Fencer's aircraft head-on reducing it to a cloud of flames and mangled shrapnel.

"Shit! We just lost Fencer!" Lanza cried out in alarm as he tried to put some distance between him and Mihaly. I wanted to go help my friends but it looked like Mihaly's new strategy was to divide and conquer. He was picking off my allies one by one, probably to isolate me and demoralize me too. I still had to deal with Sol 2 and I heard Wit chuckle as he began to tail me, "You're not going to shoot me down this time Three Strikes. You can't fool me twice."

"I haven't shown you all my moves," I retorted as I led him in a steep climb before putting my Eagle in a flat spin. I careened toward the ground in a controlled stall before recovering and catching him from behind. My sights went red on the surprised Sol 2 and I let loose with a pair of missiles in reply, "Lights out!"

Wit gave a frustrated shout as his Flanker was hit and he sailed off trailing flames and smoke, ejecting before his aircraft exploded.

"Splash the last escort!" I called.

Long Caster punctuated it with a forceful invocation, "Strider! Cyclops! Stop Mister X!"

"Give it up Shilage! You're all alone!" I called out to Mihaly as the rest of us chased him, "It doesn't have to end like this!"

The old Erusean ace didn't seem interested in negotiating peace as he flew like a demon and maneuvered swiftly around all of us. I had never seen him fly like this and it frightened me. He chuckled, "You're brave and noble Captain Richter... traits I admire. But I swore an oath that I wouldn't stop until we settled our fight for good."

Wiseman cut in over the radio to me, "Listen Trigger, real talk. If this keeps up, more people are going to die. I'll act as a lure. You shoot Mister X down!"

"What?" I exclaimed, "Are you nuts?"

"He's right Wiseman! Don't do it!" Count added in agreement. There was concern in his voice over this reckless plan but Wiseman ignored both of us and goaded Mihaly to chase him.

"All right! He grabbed the bait! Time to take him for a ride! Yeehaw!"

I immediately gave chase and roared after them in a steep dive toward the city, "Damn it... Strider 1, target acquired!"

We wove around in our descent, juking and rolling in wide evasive arcs and I could barely keep with the skill displayed by Mihaly and Wiseman. Despite my own talent and concentration I struggled to try and get a radar lock on Sol 1.

"You're one stubborn bastard," Wiseman taunted Mihaly, "Waiting for a chance to fire, eh? Sorry stranger, but my boys ain't gonna let you have it!

We spiraled toward the Sunken District and roared around several of the sinking derelict buildings that remained, continuing our lethal game of chase. I could feel beads of sweat running from my brow as I continued to chase and line up a shot on Mihaly, "Come on... come on..."

"Your friend is quite the entertainer Three Strikes," Mihaly told me, "But the show's over with this next shot. Pity... he wasn't a bad pilot either. "

"No!" I shouted, "Wiseman, break now!"

"Negative Trigger. I'll hold him just a little longer. I..."

Sol 1 finally took his shot and tagged Cyclops Leader dead-on with a missile causing Wiseman's Eagle to explode into a million fiery pieces over the city. The rest of the LRSSG felt their hearts collectively stop when they heard Long Caster give a pained cry for the death of his friend, "Shit! Cyclops 1 is down!"

I gave a shout of fury while Count echoed my anger calling out to the skies, "No! Wiseman!"

I let the anger carry me as I pursued Mihaly in the skies with a murderous laser focused goal, "Focus everyone! We're not done here!"

"Cyclops 2, you've got the lead," Huxian called out noting she and Count were the only pilots left from Cyclops Squadron.

"Wiseman! Shit!" Count exclaimed feeling his mind go blank and his will to fight drained. Mihaly picked up on it and buzzed by him.

"Who's next, Three Strikes? Your wingman from Sierraplata?"

"Count! Get your head in the game! You have the lead of Cyclops!" Jaeger shouted at his comrade.

Count sputtered and struggled to focus, "I... I can't... Trigger should take command."

"The duty is yours!" Lanza argued forcefully, "Do it!"

I continued to chase Mihaly and spray bursts of gunfire at him, "Count! Listen to me! Focus! Your squadron needs you right now. I need you right now. You can do this... I know you can."

He sucked in several breaths before giving a nod, "Right... right... Uh, Cyclops 4. Form an element. We need our top gun if we're going to slay that monster."

"Wilco Count," Huxian answered as she flew close to his wing, "I'm with you."

The LRSSG formed up into a holding pattern to protect me as I led the charge and raced after Mihaly across the city and over the waters of the coast. Long Caster spoke solemnly, "Our hopes are all on you Trigger. Finish the job!"

I could hear my wingmates all imploring me and voicing their support.

"Get Mister X, Trigger!" Jaeger added in encouragement.

"Shoot him down boss!" Lanza called.

"You can do it Trigger! You're the only one who can!" Count called.

I breathed heavily and went into a sharp roll before finally getting a perfect angle on Mihaly. I waited for several heartbeats as my targeting bracket tried to lock him up for the kill and he seemed to know it too. Until...

The electronic sensors of my plane suddenly began to fizzle as my targeting systems and digital instruments went haywire. I gave an angry cry, "No! What the..."

My comrades seemed to have the same problem as I heard a chorus of their confused voices. Did an EMP just go off? How was that possible? We would have known. "Long Caster? What's going on? My systems have gone haywire. I looked around and saw that in the moment of chaos, Mihaly had escaped and retreated from the battlefield, "Damn!"

"I... I don't know. Stand by Strider 1," Long Caster responded.

That was when I heard Huxian's voice, "Hey! Look at the sky... towards the sun!"

I glanced toward the heavens and saw what looked like a bright star hanging in the early evening skies. I wasn't sure, but it almost looked like there were other smaller falling stars in its wake that were streaming down tails of light from the upper atmosphere. I mused aloud, "What is that?"

"A star? An explosion, maybe?" Jaeger guessed.

Our speculation was cut short as Long Caster cut in again, "Listen up! We just lost our real-time connection with mission command. It's not just them. We're not getting any responses outside our LOS. Farbanti is under Osean control and the mission was a success, but we didn't get the follow up orders that should have come next. For now, I'm ordering you to leave Farbanti airspace and return to Cape Rainy immediately."

"After what they did to our friends here?" Count snarled vengefully, "We can't leave!"

There was a long pause as Long Caster kept his own emotions in check before answering in a level tone, "Count... we all feel the same way. He was my friend too."

The LRSSG fell silent again before I turned my aircraft northward, "Strider. Cyclops. Form up on me. Let's go home everyone."

There was no protest, or any other response for that matter. In light of what had just happened, I think we were all glad for it too.

* * *

**_Cape Rainy Air Base, Erusea_**

The short flight back to Cape Rainy had been one that consisted mostly of silence. Despite Osean forces prevailing in the battle and capturing Farbanti, it felt like a hollow victory today. We had lost several pilots in our unit and now everything was thrown into chaos with the loss of our long range communications and sensors. No one knew what was going on and nothing was making sense any more. I was thankful that none of the survivors of Strider and Cyclops Squadron asked me anything else on the way home because I didn't know what to say anyway. The sun had dipped under the horizon and evening was fast setting in when we straggled back onto the runways, exhausted and battle weary from the ferocious ordeal we had just been through.

Once we had all landed and parked our aircraft in the hangars, I clambered out of the cockpit of my plane and left my helmet behind. I sucked in an anguished breath before I turned to see Count heading over to meet me. He wore a stone cold expression on his face but as he neared I saw his lip quivering and he began to break down a little when we closed. We both threw our arms around each other in a hug, letting out some of the raw emotion we had been forced to bottle up from the battle earlier. Count spoke quietly through clenched teeth, "Damn it. This isn't right Trigger. We can't take this sitting down. We have to make those bastards pay for killing Wiseman."

"I know Count," I said quietly while holding my grieving comrade and talking in his ear, "This isn't over. I promise you we'll get them back."

By now, the rest of our wing had come over to join us wearing equally long and mournful expressions. Huxian was the first to come over and I let go of Count passing him off to her. She took my place and buried her face in Count's chest as they exchanged a tearful hug of their own. I took a few steps back and was greeted by Jaeger and Lanza who stood by hesitantly, " Hey boss... you okay?"

"No... I'm not," I admitted as I gently touched both their shoulders and kept walking past them to greet the other people who had come out to meet us. Leading the way were Tabloid and Avril followed by Long Caster. Avril took my arm and steadied me while Tabloid regarded me with a look of concern, "Trigger? Are you okay? We heard you guys won at Farbanti... but, what happened out there?"

"Mister X happened. We got jumped by Sol Squadron and lost several people... including Wiseman," I said darkly, "I was this close to taking down Shilage when everything went to hell with our computer systems."

Avril nodded, "Communications and tactical information systems have all gone down across the continent. For all we know, this might be a worldwide thing."

I blinked in surprise, "I don't understand. What the hell is going on here?"

My reunion with my friends was interrupted as I heard someone clear their throat. It was Long Caster, "Captain Richter? Sorry to interrupt but I'm going to need you to come with me. It's important."

I nodded and followed along letting Tabloid and Avril come too. I grimaced slightly and addressed my controller sympathetically, "Major? I uh... I'm sorry about Wiseman."

Long Caster's features tightened a moment before giving a short nod, "Thanks."

Long Caster was normally very easy going and friendly around us but it was a bit unnerving to see him so somber and serious right now. He was clearly shaken up over the loss of his friend as well as having to deal with whatever it was that was going on at the senior command level. I asked, "Sir? Do you know what's going on here?"

"Not yet Tom, but the reason I need you is because there's someone here who wants to speak to you."

I followed behind in quiet confusion as we headed through the halls of the nearby HQ building. We came to the doors of an officer's lounge where two armed guards were posted outside and they stepped aside to let our group pass. Long Caster wordlessly unlocked the door with a key and stepped aside to let me and my friends enter and we were surprised when we were greeted first by a golden retriever dog. He came up forward excitedly sniffed us before Avril bent down to scratch his ears, "Aww. Hi doggo! Aren't you a good boy?"

My attention was drawn away as Tabloid gripped my shoulder and pointed me forward. He wore a stunned look on his face and simply muttered, "Whoah... no way."

I looked across the room and froze in shock when I saw a beautiful young woman standing there waiting for us. She wore some casual khaki slacks and a white feminine blouse which was spattered with dried blood. She had a blanket draped over her shoulders and she looked just as tired and worn as our squadron did right now. There was still some grime on her face and her blonde hair worn in a crown braid was a bit disheveled and mussed. Her blue eyes met mine and she stood in equally silent awe. I took a few steps forward and approached hesitantly, "Princess Rosa..."

She nodded and approached me as well, "The pilot with Three Strikes. Captain Thomas Richter... the one they call Trigger. You saved me earlier today in Farbanti."

"Yes... how did you know?" I stammered. In retrospect, that was probably a stupid question so I continued, "Princess... I don't understand."

"There's a lot to be confused about right now," she admitted as her expression softened into one that was forlorn and wistful, "I'm confused about a great many things too, but I do know one thing is for certain."

She reached out and gently took my hands. Her hands were soft and warm and she looked up to me with pleading eyes, "Captain Richter... our countries are both in great danger and you're the only one who can help me."

Fin

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**A/N:  
First off, I want to give a huge thank you again to everyone who's read, reviewed, favorited, or followed up to this point. Frankly, I've been stunned by all the support this fic has gotten and I hope you've all enjoyed it too. I also want to thank everyone who's offered ideas, suggestions, and constructive criticisms and helped this story improve even more over time. I may have said this before, but I view this project as a collaborative effort so this series belongs just as much to all of you (the fans) as it does to me.**

**Looking ahead, I will round out this series and make it a trilogy with with one more story/arc covering Missions 16-20. I'll look forward to heading off into skies unknown with you guys after a minor break and updating a couple other projects I've been putting off in the mean time. Until then, take care, God bless, and thanks again to all of you!**


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